They All Lived Story 22: When it Rains
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Life is never simple. It has its challenges: illness, injury, and sometimes death. Love can be just as complicated. Difficulties tend to come in batches. The Central crew gets shaken up by events that are often beyond their control.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Also being published in multiple parts for length. Look for 3 chapters. Enjoy!

* * *

**February 19****th****, 1951  
**

Winry was glad to be done with work for the day. It had been an exhausting one; all morning in auto-mail surgeries at the hospital, and all afternoon in the shop talking with clients and distributors as well as working on actual auto-mail. Exciting, but hectic! "Sorry I'm late!" she called out as she hung up her jacket and came into the living room. Edward sat at the table, books and notes out, unsurprisingly, though he sort of seemed to be staring at them, not really reading or writing. "Ed?"

Ed looked up then and smiled. "Oh, hey Winry. Sorry, I didn't hear you come in." He paused then, coughing.

_Oh really? _Winry gave him an odd look. "Are you all right?"

"What, oh sure," Ed chuckled, shrugging. "I was just distracted. I've almost got this finished."

Winry wasn't convinced. He looked tired and a little flushed. Nope, she definitely wasn't buying it. Without a word she crossed to him and bent over, placing her lips on his forehead – more accurate than using her hand. Yes, just as she'd suspected. "How long have you been sick?" she asked.

Ed gave her a slightly confused look. "I feel all right," he countered, coughing again.

"Well your body doesn't seem to agree," Winry shook her head. "So you'll forgive me if I don't believe you."

"It's just a cough," Ed countered then, frowning briefly. "It's no big deal."

"You have a fever," Winry pointed out, "and you look exhausted. I think you should go to bed."

"Well I don't feel like it." Great, Ed was going to be argumentative. "I'm not tired enough to sleep."

Winry glared at him. "You should lie down, even if you don't sleep. You're sick and you need to rest. Now go upstairs and take your temperature and lie down. I'll be up in a couple of minutes so don't dawdle. I'll see about getting dinner started."

"Fine, if it'll get you off my back," Ed sighed and stood, picking up his books and notes. "But I'll be bored stiff just sitting up there."

At least he was listening. "Good," Winry nodded satisfactorily. Really though, she was worried about him. He'd always been a lousy patient, and the last one to want to sit still and rest properly when he was sick or injured.

Winry did as she had said and got dinner started. Fortunately it only took a few minutes since she had done prep-work that morning. As soon as it was in the oven, she went upstairs.

Ed was sitting on the bed, thermometer under his tongue, completely lost in the notes in his hands. She noticed they were beginning to shake a little.

Winry shook her head. "It should be done by now," she said, reaching out and pulling the thermometer out of his mouth before Ed could object. She winced when she saw the numbers. "Well that does it."

Ed frowned. "I'm telling you, I don't feel that hot. If anything, I feel a little chilly."

"Says the man with a temperature of one-hundred-and-two," Winry handed the thermometer over to him then. Ed took it, coughed, and looked down, his eyes opening a little wider. He couldn't argue with_ that _after all, Winry thought with some satisfaction. "I'm going to call the doctor and see what he thinks," Winry took the thermometer back. "You rest. I'll bring dinner up when it's ready."

Ed looked like he was going to argue anyway, but then he sighed and nodded, setting his notes down on the bedside table. "If you insist."

"I do." Winry let him be then and went back downstairs and called the hospital. Fortunately Stevenson was available. As soon as he heard the symptoms, she could almost hear him nodding on the other side of the phone. He was almost certain it was pneumonia. Apparently he had seen several cases in the past few days coming from headquarters. Ed should rest and they should get his fever down quickly, plenty of fluids, the usual. He also suggested a couple of herbal teas that should help with his coughing. "Thank you, doctor."

Winry checked on dinner and put water on for tea. Then she pulled out a bowl and a cloth, filled the bowl with chilled water, and went upstairs to check on Ed again. When she got there, she found that he had kicked off his shoes and lay down, but he was already unconscious, fast asleep on the bed still mostly clothed. It wasn't restful sleep though. He was shaking more now, and still coughing. "Well that didn't take long," Winry sighed, setting the bowl down. She felt his face and cringed at the heat. Gently she unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, then did the same with Ed's pants and socks, leaving him in just his shorts. It was a testament to how tired he really had been –despite his objections- that Ed didn't wake up, though he moaned softly a couple of times.

As soon as Winry had him tucked more properly in bed under just the sheet and one blanket, she gently wiped down his face and neck with the cold damp cloth. She refilled it and left it on his forehead when she had to go down to check on dinner again.

Ethan came in the house as she came down the stairs. "Hey, Mom," he grinned, though his smile faded a little when he saw her expression. "Something wrong?"

"Your father's sick," Winry replied. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, sure," Ethan shrugged. "I just went for a three mile run and feel great if that makes you feel any better. What's he got?"

Winry sighed. "The doctor thinks its pneumonia."

Ethan winced. "Yeah, that's going around. They've had a bunch of folks come in to the hospital in the last couple of days; mostly folks from Central Headquarters. How bad is he?"

"Chills, coughing, hundred-and-two fever," Winry replied. "He's asleep now. Could you keep an eye on him while I finish making dinner? We need to bring the fever down."

"Of course," Ethan nodded and headed right upstairs.

Winry was glad her son was as stable as he was. He accepted situations and acted, and she knew he knew how to take care of Ed without her having to say a word thanks to his training. She relaxed and finished the roast and vegetables, though she knew she would probably need to make something a little easier to get _into_ Ed. She also filled a pitcher of iced water and a glass to keep up by his bedside.

**February 20****th****, 1951 **

It turned out to be a long night. Winry and Ethan ate dinner but it was all she or Ethan could do to get Ed to drink any water over the course of the evening. He was never fully conscious, despite sleeping fitfully. Winry cleaned up after dinner then relieved Ethan for the evening, prepared for a long night of taking care of Ed. She did her best to keep him comfortable, cooling his skin, but not letting him get chilled, and giving him drinks of water whenever he came to enough for her to coax some into him.

When he was quiet Winry cat napped, but when he had fever dreams or was uncomfortable, sleep was almost impossible. Ed fidgeted and rolled and mumbled. When it got bad once or twice he cried out, flailing, and Winry suspected they were old nightmares. Some of them very old, judging from what Ed said because, unsurprisingly, Ed said a lot of things in his sleep.

The first time he cried out and whimpered, pleaded for mercy, and Winry gathered it was about the Xing War from what he said, though she knew he had never begged or broken. At one point he cried out for his mother, apologizing in the same way Winry remembered him doing after the failed transmutation when he was a boy. When that happened, she cooled his face again; wiping it gently with the cold wet cloth, and began to sing softly the old lullabies both of their mothers had known.

That worked amazingly fast. Almost as soon as Winry started singing, Ed quieted and his sleep was more restful. Her gentle touches seemed to help as well. He drifted then, sometimes mumbling about alchemy, or the kids. Winry heard her own name a couple of times and random alchemical recitations. If it didn't make it impossible to sleep almost, she would have found it more amusing!

"Unnngh….Don't touch…" Ed murmured at one point, and Winry thought he might be waking up, but he smiled a little and settled down again. "…thanks Mei, that's nice….."

May? May what? Or was it a who? Winry didn't really understand a lot of what Ed said, but it sounded like a name. She made a point to remember to ask him about it later and promptly forgot about it when she went downstairs to get herself a cup of coffee and get fresh cool water. When she got back, Ed was disturbed again and it took some time to calm him down and cool him off. It wasn't pleasant. Of course, Winry had sat up many nights with the kids over the years and Ed even more, so she didn't mind. She wouldn't have been able to sleep until she knew he was all right anyway.

It was nearly morning before his fever dropped. It didn't fully break, but by dawn it was down to one-hundred even and Ed was sleeping more deeply. Yawning, Winry finally left him again for a bit, the cloth folded on his forehead. She went downstairs to see about finding some breakfast and another cup of coffee.

To her pleasant surprise Ethan was awake and in the kitchen, making breakfast. Winry smelled bacon, eggs, and hot coffee. "I knew there was actually a reason to have children," she teased.

Ethan glanced over his shoulder briefly and smiled. "You didn't think I expected you to make breakfast after being up all night did you?"

"I didn't keep you up did I, or your father?" Winry asked.

"Nah," Ethan shook his head and turned back to the bacon. "You never get a lot of sleep when you have a patient to tend," he chuckled. "How's Dad?"

"Finally getting some real sleep," Winry sighed, pouring coffee into her favorite mug. "The fever's down but it hasn't broken. It looks like I'll be spending the whole weekend playing nursemaid." Not that she was complaining but she was going to have to call and cancel some plans.

"I'll help," Ethan promised as he slid the bacon onto a plate. The eggs were already finished. "Dad's not exactly an easy patient right?"

"Never," Winry smiled. "And you've been a big help already, last night, and this," she gestured at the food. "Don't you have plans for today?"

"Just the usual," Ethan shrugged. "Sara and I are supposed to get a little practice in later; before the mission she said she's got scheduled for next week for both of us," he explained as he served up two plates. Winry took hers and they both sat down at the dining table.

"Running off again so soon?" Winry smiled, picking up her fork and taking a bite. "You haven't even been home for two months."

"It won't be a long one," Ethan said, digging into his food. "Sara said it should only be a few days and it's not until the end of the month. It's a village who lost their local doctor, so we're escorting a doctor up there to help cause they've had some bad colds this winter."

"Well that sounds safe enough," Winry agreed. Certainly safer than Xing assassins! "For something like that, I take it Stevenson doesn't mind."

"Nope," Ethan shook his head. "Though he told me I'd better make sure I don't drop studies on anything that I'll need to pass to get into University in a few years." Ethan had been studying mostly on his own. Though because he wanted to attend University to go to a proper medical school, he had to finish school. Studying on his own, he had already well surpassed his year-mates, and simply took tests over at the school to prove he had learned the information.

"And how is that going?" Winry asked. Keeping up with her youngest son was difficult some days. At least Ed always knew what Sara was up to, and Aldon called regularly from Resembool. Ethan really never seemed to sit still anymore; at the hospital working, in the auto-mail workshop, in their alchemy workroom at home, or out on missions with Sara. Then there had been this Xing trip. She wondered _when_ Ethan found the time to study traditional subjects.

"Top marks on the last set of tests," Ethan replied with his mouth full. Those had been just after he got back. "At this rate, I should have all the secondary work finished by next year. Then I can focus that time more on auto-mail and at the hospital."

"What about free time?" Winry asked, partially teasing.

"I'll have that after I finish medical school," Ethan laughed. "Don't worry, Mom. I can handle it."

Winry had just opened her mouth to respond to that when the phone rang. Sighing, she stood and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Winry. It's Elicia," she heard her friend on the other end of the line.

"Hi," Winry replied. "I'm glad you called. I was going to call you and tell you I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel on you and the girls this afternoon. Ed's got pneumonia and I really shouldn't leave him when he's sick. You now how he is."

"Edward too?" Elicia asked. "Al came home sick last night. I was calling to tell you that_ I'm_ going to have to cancel! Oh and Riza called me earlier. Apparently Roy's sick too."

"I guess we'll all be rescheduling lunch out," Winry chuckled softly. "How's Al?"

"Asleep," Elicia replied. "He came home last night and put _himself_ to bed. He had a low temperature last night, but it broke this morning."

"Well that's good. I had to make Ed go to bed and he's still feverish," Winry said.

"I suspect as soon as he starts feeling better keeping him_ in_ bed will be a trick." Ed was, without a doubt her worst patient ever when it came to patience. Of course he always had been.

After a couple of minutes of general chatting, Winry hung up the phone and went back upstairs to check on Ed again and get dressed.

* * *

It was almost lunch time before Ed actually woke up. Or at least that was his guess based on the angle of the sunlight coming in the windows. He certainly didn't feel well rested though. Last night was a jumble of blurred dreams and discomfort that he couldn't really remember in detail. His hair was damp, and the sheets the same from sweat, but he still felt hot, achy, and tired; his throat and chest sore from coughing.

If he hadn't needed to use the bathroom badly, Ed would not have considered getting up. As it was he barely made it to his feet. After a moment though, he steadied himself.

"Where do you think you're going?" Winry's stern voice got his attention. She was standing in the doorway.

"The bathroom," Ed replied curtly, covering his mouth as he coughed.

Winry's expression softened only slightly as she came into the room. "Well you'd better be right back in bed afterwards," she replied crossly.

With his head swimming like it was, Ed wasn't about to argue. "I will, if you get out of the way," he snapped more forcefully than he meant to.

"Grouch." Winry got out of the way though.

Ed made his way into the bathroom. It took longer than usual both directions, though he felt a bit better going back. It was mildly embarrassing to realize that in the time it had taken him to go to the bathroom, Winry had completely changed the bed sheets. "Thanks," he replied as he sat back down on the bed. The fresh crisp linens felt good against his skin.

"You're welcome," Winry replied. "How do you feel?"

"Lousy," Ed admitted with a shrug. "I didn't realize I was that wiped yesterday."

"Obviously," Winry shook her head, but her anger seemed to have passed. "Stevenson said there's pneumonia going around. Alphonse and Roy are both sick too."

"I heard that was going around," Ed sighed, lying back on the bed without further protest. It hurt less that way, though it did little to help with the coughing. He could just hear Stevenson's instructions in his head. "You're not going to let me up again soon are you?"

"Not a chance," Winry shook her head, smiling gently. "You should drink," she offered him a glass of water. "I've got water for tea going downstairs. It should help the cough, and there's food if you want it."

Ed knew he was sick when food didn't immediately sound appealing. Water did though and he drained the glass in short order. He emptied a second one almost as quickly when Winry refilled it. He was thirsty! Winry looked satisfied when he sipped at the third, the worst of his thirst finally slaked. At that point, something light to eat sounded pretty good. "What's for lunch?" he asked.

"We've got a chunky vegetable and beef soup and garlic toast," Winry replied as if offering the _menu_. "If you don't like that, I can regulate you to chicken broth and bread."

Ed stuck his tongue out at her. "Lunch sounds fine to me the way it is!"

"I thought as much," Winry chuckled, leaning over and kissing his forehead before vanishing back downstairs.

While she was gone, Ed checked his temperature, more out of curiosity than anything else: one-hundred-point-two. No, there was no way Winry was going to let him up for a while. Not that he felt much like doing anything other than eating lunch and going back to sleep. As it was he almost dozed off before Winry got back upstairs with lunch.

**February 24th, 1951 **

It was Sunday afternoon before Ed's fever really broke and by then he was bored and irritable. Still, Winry wouldn't let him up. While he didn't like to admit it, Ed only complained and protested out of habit. He didn't have the energy to get up and do anything productive. Most of the time he slept and tried not to cough too hard. Monday was more of the same, though Ed spent more time awake and did a little reading. He tried to sneak downstairs at one point, but Winry had caught him in the hallway and ordered him back to bed. Ed's attempt to argue that he was doing better was undercut by a nasty coughing fit the moment he tried to shout. Winry helped him back upstairs. Much to Ed's embarrassment, the assistance was necessary.

Tuesday was a marked improvement. Ed came downstairs in the afternoon and rested and read on the couch, just glad to be out of the bedroom. When Ethan got home they played a couple of games of chess before dinner. Ed won both, but Ethan was a pretty decent player, so the games were interesting and fairly close.

So on Wednesday morning Ed got up feeling tired, but a good deal better. He took a shower, and was mostly dressed for work when Winry came in to check on him. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked, catching him in the middle of tying his shoes.

"Headquarters," Ed replied with a shrug. He wasn't going to get defensive or get into a fight over this. He wasn't in the mood. He sat up and reached back to braid his hair.

"You've been in bed for four days and you think I'm going to let you out of the house?" Winry asked, her arms crossed under her breasts.

Ed stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's almost the end of classes for this run, and I'm two days behind already," he explained calmly. "All I'm going to do is sit at my desk and slog through paperwork and check in with a couple of people. I probably won't even stay all day." He just really didn't want to face even _more_ work when he got back! "Besides," he grinned. "Any good officer knows how to nap in his desk chair."

"No sparring," Winry looked up at him warily.

"No sparring," Ed chuckled and dared to kissed her forehead. "I promise. As soon as I get tired, I'll be home. You think I want to be stuck in bed again?"

"Well, no," Winry relented. "I guess I'll see you later. It _would_ be nice to get back into the workshop," she smirked up at him. "I'd hate to think they could really run everything without me."

"Never," Ed put his hands down. "I should get going."

Winry kissed him briefly. "Love you."

"Love you too." Ed kissed her back before heading downstairs, grabbing his coat off the rack, and driving over to HQ. He hated to think how badly the paperwork had piled up on his desk the last couple of days. And with Al out sick too, there was no way it had all gotten covered. Al would have his own catching up to do. Ed really wasn't sure he wanted to know how much backed up on _Roy's_ desk when the man was out sick. He was bad enough about doing it to begin with!

The stack turned out to be only mildly frightening. Ed prioritized, figuring out what could be handed down to a lower officer – though there was little enough of that – and then made stacks of things that needed to be handled immediately, and what could be done later, or not _at_ HQ. He had not promised Winry he might not bring some of it home. Once he had a sizeable stack of items that specifically needed to be taken up to the President's office for signatures, he headed out of the office and upstairs.

He ran into Alphonse half way there. "I see Elicia let you out of prison too," Ed chuckled.

Al looked up from the paperwork in his hands and laughed. "Not without a few dirty looks," he admitted. "Are you on your way up to Breda's office too?"

Ed nodded. "No rest for the weary!" he shrugged. "I didn't feel like getting any further behind."

"Me neither," Al nodded as he fell into step beside him and they headed upstairs together. "It was a pretty miserable weekend, though I think Elicia fussed more than she needed to," he admitted, grinning. "I felt almost normal yesterday."

"I still feel like I could sleep for a week, if I wouldn't get bored," Ed amended, smirking. "Just don't tell Winry!"

"Who me?" Al feigned innocence. "I'm not foolish enough to want to make her angry at either one of us."

Breda's office was in its usual state of chaos, if not more-so than usual.

"We keep having people out sick in different parts of almost every department," Feury explained with a shrug when they asked. "It's been pretty crazy all week so far, and last week too."

"So should we just get in line then?" Ed joked, holding up the sheaf of paperwork.

"I can handle those," Feury shook his head, taking both of their stacks. "I'll make sure they're back down on your desks by this afternoon."

"Thanks, Kain," Al smiled.

"No problem," Feury replied. "I think Breda will just be glad there's _someone_ getting work done on the alchemist side of things."

"What, is Mustang still sloughing off on his paperwork?" Ed smirked.

"You haven't heard?" Feury looked startled, then concerned. "He got so bad that Riza took him to the hospital last night."

Ed winced, immediately regretting the comment. "I hadn't. What happened?"

Feury shook his head regretfully. "I didn't get a lot of details. But you know how stubborn he is. It would have to be pretty serious to get him to go in the first place."

"Winry and Elicia will probably both know by the time we get home," Al pointed out and he was right. They were two of the first people Riza would likely call when she did contact anyone outside of HQ.

Ed nodded. "There's no better information system than our wives," he admitted with a weak grin and a shrug. "I hope he's okay."

"Sympathy from you, Ed?" Feury asked, chuckling.

Ed shrugged. "Sure, but don't you ever tell him about it!" With that taken care of, he wasn't inclined to wait around all day. There was plenty of work on his desk though it was a rare occasion when he was glad not to have a class scheduled to teach today. That was a pretty good sign right there –aside from the occasionally coughing fit- that he wasn't entirely up to par yet. He and Al went back downstairs and worked till lunch, then ate together, and went back to paperwork. Ed suspected Al was probably completely caught up by the end of the day; he was just that organized. Still, Ed was feeling pretty satisfied by mid-afternoon, and decided to go home a couple of hours early instead of trying to push through the whole day.

* * *

Ed didn't even have the chance to ask Winry about Roy. When he got home, Riza was sitting at their dining table with Winry drinking a cup of coffee and looking very tired. "Hi," he looked between the two women. "How's Roy?"

"Not well," Riza replied in her usual no-nonsense manner, though Ed had known her long enough to tell she was being polite. He suspected the outpouring of worry was something he had already missed. As well as they got along, she was one of Winry's best friends, not his. But she was still wavering slightly, and he thought she had been crying fairly recently. "He'll live," she added.

"Well that's good," Ed replied. He had figured that much, or Riza would never have left Roy's bed side. "How are you?"

At his concern for her, Riza smiled very slightly. "I've been better, but thank you." She sighed. "His fever wouldn't break, and he could barely sleep for the coughing. When he started vomiting I insisted he go in."

So it was a bad case. Certainly a lot worse than he and Al had experienced. "Any idea how long he'll be in?"

Riza shook her head, staring down into her coffee. "He's been sick before. He's stubborn and stupid about it every time. This time, Roy didn't even argue with me. He couldn't."

"He'll be all right," Winry placed a hand on her friend's shoulder, speaking soothingly.

"I know," Riza sighed. "I should go back," she said then after a moment. "Maes is with him right now, but I already feel like I've been gone too long."

"Just make sure _you_ get some rest," Winry replied firmly as Riza stood up.

"I will," Riza smiled weakly. "Thank you for the coffee, Winry. I'll see you both." She nodded to Ed, then stepped past him and headed for the door.

When she was gone, Ed turned back to Winry. "It's that bad, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question.

Winry nodded. "She said his fever was up around one-hundred-and-one all weekend. It dropped a little, but then it spiked. The shakes, the coughing, the muscle aches, all the usual symptoms, but it got a lot worse last night." She sighed and sat down again, sipping from her own cup. "Stevenson's very concerned."

Ed winced. When Stevenson said he was _concerned_ that was what Ed translated as _this is bad_. He sat down at the table in the chair Riza had just vacated. "Riza doesn't look like she's slept since Friday."

"She almost hasn't," Winry replied frowning and clearly upset. "Though she said Maes was over for most of the weekend and in the evenings."

That was a relief in a lot of ways. "That's good at least." Ed knew far too well what it was like to deal with these kinds of situations. They were good at leaving someone an emotional wreck, and he took them seriously. "There are a lot of folks out sick at HQ, but as far as I've heard, he's the only one to be hospitalized for it."

"Hopefully he'll be the only one, and not for long," Winry nodded. "So," she looked up at him. "How was your day?"

"Refreshingly dull," Ed smiled, hoping to lighten the mood a little. "Lots of paperwork; almost nothing else. I brought some of it home in case I feel like being productive later, or sleeping in tomorrow." He shrugged. He had a heavier course-load to cover next week, which gave him time to take it a little easy.

"I'm glad to hear it," Winry sipped her coffee. "Elicia said Al went back to work today too. He sounds like he had a milder case even than you did."

"He looked it," Ed chuckled. "Sounded better too," he admitted as he coughed a couple of times. It was nothing compared to a few days ago, but he knew the cough usually lingered the longest.

**March 1****st****, 1951 **

It was Monday of the next _week_ before Roy Mustang's fever broke. By that point, Ed really had nothing but sympathy for the entire family. The mood around HQ was dampened and concerned; at least in Breda's office and those that dealt with Roy regularly. A large number of the officers struck down sick had returned to work and, while a few more were now out, it seemed to have run its course for the most part and moved on.

Stevenson still wanted to keep Roy for several days yet, and Ed could understand why. It had taken Roy a week to reach even that much improvement and he was reportedly sleeping most of the time. They were keeping him properly hydrated, though Riza admitted that at times they had sedated Roy heavily so that he _could_ sleep through the worst of the coughing fits. She came over for dinner that night, and Ed got to listen while Riza gave Winry the full update. The shakes had passed with the fever at least it seemed, and he hadn't vomited after that first day in the hospital, but Roy was still achy, exhausted, and apparently in a very foul temper.

"Stevenson says he can have visitors in a couple of days, if anyone wants to brave his bad mood," Riza smirked tiredly.

"We'll definitely come by and see him," Winry assured her immediately.

Ed smiled. "Sure," he agreed. He was used to dealing with Roy in a bad mood. Besides, after a week in the hospital, he suspected that even _he_ would be a welcome change from the walls and the doctors!

"Just don't irritate him," Riza gave Ed a knowing look. "He'll try and do something stupid, like retort."

"I'll be on my best behavior," Ed promised with a slight smirk. He wouldn't do anything on purpose to annoy a sick man, not even Roy Mustang.

It was a quiet night. Ethan was over at Sara's since their train for their mission left early in the morning and it was just easier for them to go over to the station together with the Doctor being sent. So it was just the three of them at the house, and Ed was glad for it.

"How's Maes?" Winry asked.

"Holding up better than I am," Riza replied. "Neither of us has been ill, thank goodness, but he's been good about spending time with Roy. He's actually a calming influence. I don't think I would be comfortable leaving Roy for a moment otherwise," she admitted softly. "Even though this is definitely a sign of improvement I've just been so worried all week."

Ed watched Winry's sympathetic glances and listened to the uncharacteristic tremors in Riza's voice, and suddenly had the suspicion he was missing something. "Is there something I'm not aware of?" he asked finally after a couple of minutes of silence. "This is about more than just a bout of pneumonia isn't it?"

Winry didn't say anything, but Riza finally nodded. "Roy's health hasn't been _great_ for a long time," she spoke softly. "Not that he'd ever admit it, or do anything about it, despite how much I try and talk some sense into him." Her tone was slightly bitter and she shook her head slightly. "He never listens to Stevenson either, not unless there's an obvious problem, and sometimes not even then."

"He still passes the physical every year," Ed pointed out, a little confused, but given Riza's reaction, this was about more than run times.

Riza snorted. "Think about it, Edward. How many times in the last few years has Roy been sick?"

Ed certainly hadn't kept count, but when he thought about it, it definitely numbered higher than himself, or Al, or most anyone else he knew. "A few times," he replied. "Come to think of it, he does tend to be out longer for things doesn't he?"

Riza nodded. "Yet he still pushes himself just as hard as he did when he was twenty-five. He won't rest when he's tired. He won't admit when he's reached his limits." Her fork took an unnecessarily violent stab into the meat on her plate.

She didn't need to say much more. Ed had gotten the same lectures on stress and health from Stevenson for over twenty years. The difference was, much as he hated them, he'd listened. For the most part anyway. Roy had spent years in what had to be one of the most stressful jobs in the military, and he had never really been a _relaxed_ kind of guy, except when he was avoiding paperwork. "Think maybe he'll listen now?"

Riza shook her head. "Not when he hears what Stevenson's proposing."

"And what _is_ he proposing?" Ed asked as he stuck a forkful of vegetables in his mouth.

It felt like the temperature dropped five degrees with what Riza said next. "He wants Roy to retire from the military."

**March 2****nd****, 1951**

"Thanks for the ride," Sara smiled at Franz as he dropped her and Ethan off at the train station with their bags. "Who did you borrow the car from this time, or did you just swipe it?" she teased. It was early in the morning and the pre-dawn light was barely enough to see by. Thank goodness for the station lights. She and Ethan only had one bag each, both were experts at packing light by now, but she had been glad for the extra sleep that came with Franz's offer of a ride.

Franz, as she had expected, looked mildly annoyed that she would even suggest theft then he chuckled. "Sergeant Parks," he said. "He owed me a favor."

"Well I'm glad he did," Sara replied. An awkward silence fell and, in that moment, she wished she dared to hug him as exuberantly as she wanted. All right, she really wanted to_ kiss_ him, but they were friends and they had agreed to take things slow until they were ready to move past the past and try again. Well, Sara definitely felt ready, but she wasn't entirely sure about Franz. He certainly hadn't brought up the subject. "We'll be back in a few days," she promised.

"See you then," Franz smiled then he grinned at Ethan. "You take care of your sister, okay? She's terrible at taking care of herself."

Ethan smirked and saluted Franz, despite the fact he still looked half-bleary with sleep. "Yes Sir!" he laughed.

"I'll get you both back for that one," Sara mock-glared at them as she picked up her bag. "Come on, Ethan. Doctor Moors is supposed to meet us on the platform right?"

Ethan nodded an affirmative and they headed off. Sara couldn't help one last glance behind as they entered the building though. "He already left," Ethan commented.

"How would you know what I was looking for?" Sara snapped, realizing too late she was on the defensive, and she might as well have telegraphed _you're right_ at her brother in bold font.

"I know you've had things kind of …strange, with guys," Ethan replied calmly. "But if you're that crazy about him, you should just go ahead and do something about it. It's been what, a year since you agreed to _be friends_ and see what happens?"

"Fifteen months," Sara replied without even having to think about it and winced again. She was beginning to think that telling her littlest brother anything was more dangerous than telling Aldon!

"Sounds like taking it slow enough to me," Ethan commented, though there was no sarcasm in it.

Sara sighed. "That's how I feel," she admitted. They had made that promise the night of November twenty-fifth, nineteen-forty-nine. "But Franz hasn't brought it up in months and, lately, I'm not sure what to think." In all honesty, lately she was beginning to think that maybe he had lost interest, and just preferred the comfortable reliability of their friendship. "Come on, I think I see Doctor Moors now."

Ethan sighed but didn't press the issue, just looked up. "Yep, that's him," he confirmed.

Sara was glad to get down to business. A new assignment was just what she needed to get focused on the work she loved. Franz was something she could think of in her free time. She would worry about him later.

**March 5****th****, 1951 **

Edward was whistling as he entered Breda's outer offices. It was a good day. Yesterday the end-of-class fight evaluations had gone well. He and Alphonse remained unbeaten. The fights had been good even with both of them taking it a little easy, more for themselves than their students! This class was progressing well; smoother than the last couple really. They had almost had a repeat of the Dietrich incident last year, but fortunately it hadn't ended in disaster. Their final test would, of course, be the State Alchemy Exam.

The office was bustling as usual. Over the years the staff had grown and changed. While Roy and Edward were technically directly under Breda, they weren't part of his _staff_ in the traditional sense given their other duties. Only Feury and Falman out of Roy's original staff worked in the office as the senior-most officers in experience. Of the newer ones – only relatively speaking - that Ed knew reasonably well, there were Lieutenant Colonel Carl Braun and Lieutenant Franz Heimler and a couple of others. Then there were always newer officers in and out. Some worked out, some didn't.

Ed reached down out of habit at the end of the row of desks before his hand grasped empty air and he looked down. Almost every day for the last twenty plus years there had been a box of pastries there every morning; today nothing. Well, that was odd. Ed opened the door to Breda's office and went in. "Hey, Breda what's up? No donuts!" He stopped, further commentary dying on his lips as Breda looked up from his desk, his expression dour. "Is something wrong?"

"This came last night," Breda commented gruffly, holding out what looked like a hand-written letter.

Ed stepped up to the desk and took the letter. It was postmarked from out somewhere in Southwest Amestris and mailed four days ago. He scanned it quickly.

_Dear Heymans, _

_There is no easy way to write this. I'm sorry to have to tell you that Jean died yesterday. His heart gave out. That's what the doctors tell me. I admit the medical reports don't make that much sense to me, but that's the short of it. The hospital here says they'll be sending the official record of death to the Central offices, since he gets proper military honors in Central, but I didn't want that to be how you found out. Please tell the rest of his friends for me. Putting this into words once has been difficult enough. _

_Regards, Grace Havoc_

Ed surprised himself when the page blurred wetly in front of him with unshed tears. Havoc was dead? He could see that amused smirk in his mind, hear Havoc's quips. He'd been serious too though when he had to be, reliable, and a good friend. "Damn it."

"Got the official report this morning too," Breda sighed, dropping a thicker, more official letter on the desk. "Cause of death: a damned heart attack. No one got to him in time." Not that there was a lot they could have done.

"I told him the damned things'd kill him," Ed found himself saying; his voice thick with emotion. "While we were captured I told him." The words came out quiet, but if he didn't say_ something _he had the feeling he really would cry, right here. He picked up the official paperwork. Yeah, it wasn't just the cigarettes, convenient as they were to blame and certainly part of it. It looked like Havoc had been having problems for years. Not that he would have ever said anything.

They hadn't lost one of 'the crew' since Hughes, and Ed hadn't been ready for this. He was having trouble taking the news in as it was. At least he understood the lack of fried pastries in the office this morning. It kind of made him lose his appetite too. "Does Roy know?"

"Not yet," Breda shook his head. "I haven't told anyone yet. Makes you think though, doesn't it?" Breda commented softly. "Maybe I should actually _listen_ to my wife."

Ed handed the letter back. "That's usually considered wise," he replied with a half-hearted smile. "Or so Winry tells me. Should I warn the boys out front they'll have to find another source of deep-fried sugar?"

That got a smirk out of Breda. "Will I have to put up with comments like that for the rest of my life if I let you do it?"

Ed chuckled; it was good therapy for grief. "Probably not much," he replied. "I don't know about everyone else, but I'm more inclined to offer my assistance."

"And how's that?" Breda asked.

Ed smirked. "Do you remember any of your hand-to-hand combat training, Mister President?" He couldn't think of a faster way to get an old soldier back in fighting trim than the training that got him there in the first place!

Breda blinked then chuckled. "In theory," he shrugged. "It's been a long time."

"Then maybe it's time for a little refresher course," Ed said, "Unless you're too chicken to take me on."

"You mean crazy for thinking about it," Breda quipped. "Sure, why not? It's better than embarrassing myself in the gym at this point."

Ed smiled sympathetically. "Nah. You're not half as pathetic as some of the students who show up in my classes every year." Over the years, there had been quite a few who looked like they might not _survive_ their first workouts in the alchemy program. They always did though. "We can spar at your place or mine, where ever you want." It didn't matter to Ed. But Breda was right. Only it wasn't just their wives guys should be listening to, but their friends as well. Personally, Ed preferred being more proactive. "I promise not to kill you."

"I'm sure Nancy and the kids will appreciate that," Breda smiled. "Though I might wish you had at first."

"Probably," Ed nodded. "We can start this weekend if you want." He certainly wasn't going to make it easy on him! But he was good at judging what his students could handle, and what was too much. The goal here was different too, and quite the opposite of killing anyone off. Inevitably, his thoughts returned to Havoc and Ed cringed.

"Next week," Breda suggested. "I'm sending the paperwork to the right offices this morning, but the funeral for Havoc will be this weekend."

"Someone's going to have to tell Roy," Ed said. "He'll never forgive us otherwise. Hell, with him still stuck in the hospital, he'll probably get pissed at Jean for the bad timing." Stevenson had made it clear Roy wasn't getting out in the next couple of days, and with this schedule that meant the funeral would be almost as soon as Havoc's body arrived in Central.

"Probably," Breda nodded solemnly. "I think I'll tell Riza and let her break it to him." It was a task he obviously didn't relish. Ed didn't blame him.

"I'll tell Al and the rest of the family," Ed offered. It made the most sense anyway. No one was going to be happy to get this news. He wasn't sure whether the kids would be upset about missing the funeral. Aldon couldn't make it from Resembool in time, and Ethan and Sara's mission had apparently gotten extended as they stayed to help the doctor with a rather overwhelming number of patients. Given the issues with pneumonia in Central lately, Ed understood why they were delayed. Though he didn't think the kids would be as harshly affected as the older generation. They liked Havoc all right, but didn't know him as well, and he wasn't entirely sure Sara had ever entirely forgiven Jean for his unwitting part in Ed's problems _after_ the Xing War, despite his help later.

"I'll contact his family," Breda sighed. "He still has a couple of relatives out there, and I'll handle the rest of it. I hate this kind of work." He picked up the papers again.

"I don't envy you the task," Ed nodded. "Next week then," he offered up a smirk. "No weaseling out of it." A work out with Breda would definitely be interesting.

"Oh don't worry I won't," Breda smirked back. "Once Nancy finds out I'd never live it down."

"I'll make sure to call your house next week and leave a reminder," Ed smiled sadly. He set the papers down on the desk that he had almost forgotten about. "A little paperwork to finish up before the State Alchemy Exam," he said.

"Ah right," Breda picked it up and flipped through it. "The reason you actually came up here I'm sure."

"Right," Ed nodded. He turned to go. "I'll see you later." He still had plenty of work to do today. For starters, he had actually picked up a lot of Roy's general office work for the time being as much as he could. Al had as well. Anything not alchemy related or menial had been passed on down to the rest of the staff in Breda's office since they were technically still under both men.

Breda nodded as he left. "I'll see you, Ed."

* * *

Winry was more than a little surprised when Ed's response to her 'hello' when he got home was to gather her up in his arms and hug her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe. "What's wrong?" she asked as her arms went around him almost reflexively. She could feel the tension in his muscles, especially in the shoulders and neck. She wasn't sure what could have Ed so upset. "Did something happen at work?"

Ed straightened up then, a deep sadness in those golden eyes as he looked down at her. "We lost Jean," he replied simply. That was all he had to say; his expression said the rest.

"Oh, Edward," Winry hugged him again, more tightly this time, surprised as tears threatened to come in her own eyes. It was always hard to lose someone you had known a long time. "What happened to him?"

"It was his heart," Ed replied, unable to hide the bitter anger in his tone, and what Winry suspected was a hint of guilt. As if Ed could have seen it coming or done anything to stop it.

A sad death but not a surprising end. Winry shook her head. "That's terrible."

"There was a letter from Grace," Ed explained then, going over the details briefly. "The funeral's on Sunday," he finished.

That was just two days away. "Are you all right?" Winry asked him, searching his expression with her eyes. She knew Ed.

Ed shrugged, but she wasn't fooled. "I don't like it," he admitted. "Really, I hate it. But what can I do now? I feel like I should have tried harder or something," he replied, the calm exterior breaking easily though she doubted Ed realized it. "He was a friend, and I feel like I let him down." A single tear escaped from the corner of his left eye as his throat hitched.

"It's not your fault, Ed," Winry brushed the tear away with her finger, letting her hand caress the side of his face. "You aren't responsible for another grown man's personal decisions. Jean wasn't naïve, and as much as we can think we know why it happened, and be sure of the contributing factors, we can't _know_ that it wouldn't have happened anyway. The facts are the facts, sad as they are." Jean Havoc had been a very good man, a kind and caring person, but Winry was well aware of how little 'old soldiers' seemed to be capable of taking care of themselves. Neither could most of the married ones, which was likely why they got married! "I just hope Grace is all right."

Ed shrugged. "From the letter, I don't think so. She could barely stand to write the one. But she'll be arriving in town tomorrow evening, or so I heard before I came home."

Winry nodded. "Does she have somewhere to stay?"

"I asked about that," Ed replied. "Breda said he talked to Al and he was going to talk to Gracia about staying at her place."

"That makes sense," Winry said. Gracia had the whole house to herself after all, and she knew what it was like to lose a husband. "So, are you hungry?" When Ed was upset, it was a valid question.

Ed shrugged, but he smiled then. "Some; my brain's the part of me that's full," he teased a little. "I'm just a little shaken, that's all." He hugged her again once more. "I'm so glad I have you."

"For comfort?" Winry asked, smiling up at him, hinting playfully at the alternative meanings.

Ed chuckled but shook his head. "Because you're good at taking care of me."

Winry kissed his cheek. "We're good at taking care of each other."

**March 7****th****, 1951**

The military funeral for war hero Colonel Jean Havoc was a solemn affair, but grand, and not unlike the funeral of Brigadier General Maes Hughes for those who remembered it. For those who had missed it, Edward thought bitterly, it might have felt like this. A lot of men had died since then and they weren't standing near the same plot of ground, but it was the same cemetery and the mourning of a lost comrade.

The day was overcast with thick gray clouds, though it didn't quite feel like rain. Grace Havoc stood alone, at her own request, politely turning down offers of an arm to lean on or a hand to hold.

When it was over, Edward waited for most of the guests to leave before paying his personal respects. Winry seemed to understand, and went with Elicia and Gracia when they went to briefly visit Maes Hughes' grave as well. Ed could catch them later. Soon, the only two people left standing by the grave where himself and Grace. Ed stood in silence, not wanting to say anything out loud in case he disturbed her.

"That's three," Grace said quietly after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Three?" Ed couldn't help asking.

"Three men I've loved that I've lost," Grace replied without looking up from the grave. There was a sad, solemn acceptance on her face. "But Jean was the one I can honestly say I loved the most and who loved me the best."

Ed knew some of Grace's past, at least what pieces he had gotten from Jean, a couple of conversations with Grace and, oddly enough, some information from Roy who had once dated her briefly. Why wasn't Ed surprised by that fact? "He was a good guy," he replied, not sure what else to say.

Grace smiled slightly then. "Jean was brave and kind. He did everything with his whole heart when he got wrapped up in something. He gave me another chance at a life I thought I'd lost and outgrown. But I always seem to pick the ones who would never make it on their own and can't take care of themselves."

"What do you mean?" She seemed to want to talk, so Ed didn't feel like he shouldn't ask.

Grace shrugged, and looked up from the grave. "My ex-husband died a few years after I left," she replied. "I only found out a couple of years ago, but he drank himself to death, still unable to deal with his problems and without me to take his problems out on." She sighed. "The second died before we ever really had a chance doing avalanche rescue. Jean's the only one who made it this long on his own, and that seems like a miracle sometimes. I couldn't bring myself to pester him about little things." She looked back down at the grave. "Not after everything he's been through. Everyone has vices they shouldn't, but they use them to cope with the things too terrible to face. I just wish Jean had told me about his heart."

What? "You mean he knew?"

"I talked to his doctor here yesterday," Grace admitted. "When we'd come through was when he'd see him. Said he didn't really trust anyone else."

"Stevenson," Ed nodded. He didn't really have to guess. Even though a lot of folks hated listening to the man that was usually because they knew he was right.

Grace nodded. "Apparently his heart had been getting slowly worse for years. But you know Jean. He never really worried about living to an old age. He just wanted to enjoy life while he still could." Her lip trembled, and Ed watched as fresh tears began to fall. "He couldn't have known when, but he was so set in his ways, I can't believe he didn't see it coming. I wouldn't have changed him for the world, not after everything he's given me – especially himself – but I wish he had told me."

She stopped speaking then, and didn't look like she was particularly expecting an answer or comment. Still, Ed felt awkward. "So, what will you do now?"

"I think I'd like to stay in Central for a while," Grace replied. "Gracia said I could stay with her for as long as I wanted. I know I still have Jean's place here technically, but it's nice to not be alone."

Ed could understand that. "Well if you need help with anything, please don't hesitate to ask all right?"

Grace smiled at him softly. "Thank you, Edward." She turned and walked away slowly.

Ed watched her, and noticed Gracia and the others still waiting down by Hughes' grave. They were waiting for him too. Well, in just a minute. There was something he wanted to say first. "Hey Havoc," he looked down at the new grave, currently covered in fresh flowers. "I've got a message for you from Mustang, though I share the sentiment. He just wanted me to tell you that you're probably the most loyal _idiot_ ever. Still, we'll miss you, pal." He'd been fighting with his emotions all day, and he swallowed when his voice cracked. "If you run into him, say hi to Hughes for me." Ed turned away and headed back up the hill to rejoin the others; to continue living.


	2. Chapter 2

**March 13th, 1951 **

Edward was ready to go well before Breda arrived that morning. Of course, even on a Saturday he was usually up early for a workout of some kind. Whether it was with Sara when she was in town or on his own it didn't matter. Of course, Breda wasn't nearly as early a riser by preference, so Ed had spared him and agreed that ten o'clock in the morning was reasonable. Especially for a man who still had two young kids to wrangle at home!

"You're not going to be too tough on him are you?" Winry asked during breakfast.

Ed shook his head. "Nah," he replied over his cereal. "What I want to do today is prove to him that this isn't going to be as impossible as he thinks it is." He was still surprised, and a little flattered that Breda actually _wanted_ him to help out with this latest attempt at dieting. "After all. He _is_ passing the required PT exam every year, if just barely, right? That's not a lousy standard."

Winry nodded, nibbling thoughtfully at a piece of toast with blackberry jam. "No it's not," she agreed.

"I'm going to push him, but I'm not planning to break him," Ed chuckled before draining his orange juice. Despite the morning plans, he'd at least gone for his usual run this morning just for a good warm up. "Breda's got a lot more in him than he thinks he does." They had talked about things some this week, with Havoc's funeral over with. Ed had told Breda to talk to Stevenson first, as far as what the best plan of action was for him _before_ anything else. They would work from there. As much as Ed knew at this point in his life about nutrition and exercise, he wasn't a doctor and he didn't know Breda's detailed medical history.

There was plenty of room in the back yard for what Ed had planned out for this morning. It wasn't going to require a lot of space anyway. Fortunately the weather was still cool this time of year, so they wouldn't be working out in the heat either. Otherwise Ed would have pushed Breda into using the HQ gymnasium, even though he knew the other man would rather keep the experience a secret to most of their coworkers, especially the rest of the guys in the office! At least for a while. Ed had the feeling they'd figure it out on their own soon enough, but he let Breda think that his private business was private, at least for now.

Breda arrived right on schedule and they headed out to the back yard.

"So what's the word from Stevenson?" Ed asked as he started in on some basic warm-up stretches. He was in a t-shirt and sweat pants, and Breda had worn similar.

"Well, first off, he nearly fell out of his chair laughing when I told him _you_ said I should talk to him and listen to his advice," Breda smirked as he stretched out as well.

Ed bent over backwards, touching his hands to the ground behind his back and feeling his spine stretch out until he had to bring his legs up and walk over. It popped a couple of times. "Hey, I've been listening to the man for years," he smirked. "I just like to gripe about it first."

"Show off," Breda grunted as he watched Ed enviously. "Well, he said he trusted you to work out something that wouldn't kill me, and that's the whole of the message."

Ed moved from the stretch into a hand-stand, then dropped to the ground and started doing one-handed push-ups. "I can work with that. Give me twenty-five," he commented. "Yours can be two-handed… this time." With the go-ahead, he would proceed with his original work-out strategy for the day.

He led Breda through what, for Ed, was nothing more than a nice extended warm up: push-ups, sit-ups, a series of stretches that worked all the major muscle groups. He wasn't going to try and make Breda run today. He knew full well the man's run times. After all, he had been at the last physical. It had been far too soon after he'd gotten back from Xing in his opinion! Not that _he'd_ had any trouble passing it of course. Not even a couple of months of relative inactivity could knock _Ed_ that out of shape.

The warm up took half an hour. When they were done, Ed felt good and loose. He grinned at Breda, who was sweating a little – not too bad, but definitely sweating – and panting. "All right, let's take a little break."

"Thank goodness," Breda dropped down on the bench to the picnic table and picked up a glass of water. Ed had made sure to have a large pitcher and glasses out here today. Breda drained two glasses in quick succession. "That was a bear of a workout."

Ed couldn't help it, he laughed. "I've got bad news for you. That was the warm-up."

He watched Breda's face turn slightly pale for a moment. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Of course not," Ed replied smugly. "That's not all there is to it, and you've got plenty of energy left."

"Maybe you do," Breda groused, filling the glass again.

"I've been training up alchemists to combat readiness for how long now?" Ed asked as he came over and poured himself a glass of water. "And I've seen plenty in worse shape than you are. I'll be the judge of how much you can handle."

"Yeah yeah," Breda sighed. "All right. What's next?"

Ed sipped his water, but didn't sit. "From what I hear, and remember," he added, grinning, "You were quite the wrestler back in the day. I figured we'd just drill moves for a while, see what you remember."

He thought he saw a little of the horror vanish from behind his friend's eyes. Breda actually grinned. "That, I think I can handle." The wrestling and grappling techniques the military taught its soldiers in training were useful in close-in combat situations, and weren't too hard to remember. Any old soldiers Ed had ever talked to about it remembered _how_ well past their ability to actually put those moves into use.

What Ed didn't tell Breda was how long they were drilling for. Neither of them was wearing a watch, but Ed had gotten very good at telling time during combat situations, and he drilled Breda on moves for a solid hour. Slowly at first, though Breda remembered a lot of the grappling maneuvers and flips and such immediately. They worked on technique to make sure that neither of them was going to get hurt too. Not that Ed was particularly worried about himself. Limiting fighting down to those moves though, meant that he suspected this was going to be a much closer match than Breda might expect. Given how some of those positions _looked_ done slowly however, Ed was glad this was in the privacy of the back yard!

When Breda was breathing heavily and Ed was satisfied they'd covered all the critical moves, he let the other man take a break again. Ed was feeling it a little as well. It had been a while since he'd run technique drills, given he and Al usually got _saved_ for the slightly more advanced sparring matches now the majority of the time, and doing it slowly instead of at speed for longer was a very different workout. It felt good though. "One more run of it and we'll be done," Ed promised as Breda _drained_ the rest of the water pitcher.

"Oh hell," Breda looked warily at him. At least this time he didn't ask if Ed was joking. "I thought you weren't trying to kill me."

"I'm not," Ed replied, not laughing this time. "I'm testing out what you can do, and so far, you're not at your limit yet." If Breda was really _done_ Ed would have been able to tell. He'd wanted Ed's help, and he had every intention of taking that seriously. "If I wanted you _dead_ I'd have just asked you to join me for my five mile run this morning." That, he knew, was what nearly killed Breda's test every year – aside from weight – and it was only two miles on the test. It wasn't that Breda wasn't capable of running it. If left to his own pace, he could probably have run it in a decent time anyway; just not what the military required of its officers, even at Breda's age. "The only other thing you have to do today is fight me till I give," Ed smirked. "As soon as you manage that, you can call it quits for today."

"I have to beat you?" Breda looked incredulous. "Hell, Ed. That's not just sadistic, it's insane!"

Ed shrugged. "Are you telling me someone with your knowledge of tactics and quality of technique can't take me on under standard military rules?" He wasn't going to be using any of his more advanced moves in this, or anything even remotely untraditional. "I was told you're great at this."

"Thirty years ago," Breda groaned, but he stood up again. "More like forty."

"Quit griping," Ed barked then, and he had the satisfaction of watching Breda jump. It had been a long time since anyone had shouted orders at Breda. "You want to make it to seventy or don't you?"

Breda glared at him, then stalked over and got into starting stance.

All right! This was going to be fun, at least for Ed. He got into position himself. "Go."

The fight lasted for several minutes when it was all said and done. There was a lot of circling and feinting at first until Breda rushed Ed, who moved away easily, but turned it into a take-down move that sent the fight to the ground, which was the whole idea. As soon as they really got into it, Breda seemed to completely forget about his earlier gripes – as Ed had been planning and expecting all along – and went with training and instincts. At that point, Ed got an idea of how good Breda really _had_ been when he was younger. He used his size and weight to his advantage, and he was faster than he looked. Strength had never been in doubt. They were pretty evenly matched in skill, and height – given Breda was only a couple of inches taller than Ed.

Ed called it when Breda got him into a legitimate hold that Ed couldn't break on the first try. "I give," he grinned, rolling over as Breda let go and getting up on his own. "Nice moves."

Breda was panting heavily, but grinning. "You're the squirmiest little devil I think I've ever fought."

"Using size to advantage works both ways," Ed smirked. Lean and light was necessary for his preferred fighting styles, and he knew how to use it in any situation. He'd have been long dead otherwise! "Come on," he said, slapping Breda on the shoulder. "Winry should have lunch ready for us." It was almost noon, and Ed knew Breda had to be as hungry as he was!

Breda's eyes lit up at the word_ lunch._ "I could eat half a cow," he commented as they entered the house through the deck right into the living room.

"That's not on the menu," Winry chuckled as Ed closed the door behind them. "Both of you wash up. I will _not_ have my meal ruined by smelling the two of you."

"Well that was a not-so-subtle hint," Ed smirked at Breda. "You can use the downstairs wash room." Ed went upstairs, washed up quickly and pulled on clean clothes. He wasn't too bad really, but he'd broken a light sweat by the end.

Breda had, fortunately, been smart enough to bring a change of clothes. He looked much less bedraggled washed up and in something that wasn't sticking to his body with sweat. He was already at the table when Ed sat down at his usual spot. "See, was that so bad?" Ed asked with a grin as he started in on the salad waiting for him.

"Yes," Breda replied with a snort then he shrugged. "But not as bad as I expected," he admitted. "I don't know how you do that all the time." He was already half-way through his bowl of salad.

"Practice," Ed replied matter-of-factly. "You'd better get used to it. We'll do the same thing next weekend."

"Just once a week?" Breda looked momentarily relieved.

"To start," Ed replied. "Though if you don't want to feel like you're going to drop dead every time, you're going to have to get a little exercise in during the week too. Doesn't have to be this," he said when Breda started to protest. "But if you don't get up and move around tomorrow you're going to be stiff and sore as hell for days. Take a brisk walk, do the stretches we did earlier. You'll be sorry otherwise."

"I'm sure," Breda sighed, polishing off the salad as Winry came out of the kitchen with the main course, which turned out to be fish and rice. She served up the plates, and then joined them. Breda eyed the plate warily, and Ed could see the man pondering if that was enough food. Then he shrugged and dug in. "And I asked for this."

"Yeah, you did," Ed agreed, though he smiled, showing a little more sympathy than he had earlier. "And you kept up as well as I expected you to."

"Really," Breda looked more than a little skeptical.

"Yeah," Ed shrugged. "You're overweight sure, and a little out of condition, but you're far from pathetic. Besides, the goal here is to improve your health, not turn you into a combat-ready fighter." He swallowed a bite and grinned. "If this were my combat course for the kids over at HQ, it would have been twice as long and we'd have kept going till you couldn't stand up anymore."

"No thanks," Breda snorted. "The plan you've got right now is good with me! By the way, this is delicious," he complimented the food, turning his attention to Winry.

"Well thank you," Winry smiled. "Nice to know someone appreciates my cooking."

"I appreciate your cooking," Ed objected, though he chuckled. "Just don't trust compliments from someone who's hungrier than a half-starved tiger."

"So I should never trust yours then," Winry countered.

"Mine are the exception," Ed's smile widened. "I'm under no obligation to give compliments."

"How do you figure that?" Winry gave him a curious look.

"I've been eating your cooking for over fifty years," Ed replied. "I should think that in itself is a compliment!"

"He has a point," Breda interjected on Ed's behalf. "No man will willingly _abuse_ his stomach for that long."

"I'll have to keep that in mind," Winry looked introspective as she ate her salad. "I'm glad you like it though."

Breda nodded heartily. "Is there any more?"

"There's more salad," Winry smiled innocently.

When Breda looked over at Ed, he just shrugged and nodded. Despite the fact he was, personally, still hungry he'd specifically requested that Winry serve _normal_ proper portions for a post-workout lunch. "This would be the_ diet_ part," he replied unapologetically. "Though I'm sure you already got the lecture on portions." Stevenson had probably covered that one _repeatedly_ with Breda over the years if Ed had to guess.

"No wonder you never have trouble passing PT," Breda sighed, looking longingly at the empty plate.

"When it comes to this kind of thing," Ed said as he finished off his own meal, "I find that no one knows more about keeping fit than the mother of multiple children." He'd always thought Winry had a great body, but as they all got older, the fact that she _still_ had a great body was something he appreciated!

Winry looked more than pleased with that compliment! "Don't you forget it," she replied, but she smiled at Ed.

Breda smirked. "Or even just one." Nancy was trim and neat in her own appearance. Ed had no doubts that Breda's problems were not out of a lack of trying on Nancy's part, not given he knew she'd been encouraging Breda to lose weight since before they got married. "Speaking of which," Breda smiled. "I should get home. I promised the kids some time this afternoon. Thanks for lunch." He stood up and then gave Ed one last look. "Same thing next week, right?"

"Same thing. Be on time or it'll be worse," Ed grinned wickedly.

Breda actually smiled back as he left. "Oh don't worry. I'll be here."

* * *

"That went well today," Ed commented later that night as he and Winry were getting ready for bed. He'd taken a long shower so he was_ really_ clean, and was sure he was going to pass out from ecstasy right there on the bed as he sat, and Winry combed out his hair. He was perfectly capable of doing it on his own, but having her hands run through his hair always felt _so_ good!

"You're a good friend," Winry commented softly from behind him as she worked out a small tangled spot with the comb. "Breda looked a lot more confident when he left earlier than he did when he got here."

"That was the idea," Ed smiled, leaning back a little and closing his eyes. "The hardest part of doing anything unpleasant is feeling like you _can_ and pushing through when it's hard or frustrating."

"That rarely seems to be a problem for you," Winry pointed out.

"I'm stubborn, Ed chuckled. "But If I _ever_ look like I'm heading that way, smack me all right?" he added, completely serious.

Winry chuckled, and Ed jumped as she reached around him with her arms and ran her fingers lightly up his abdominal muscles. "Well you know," she chuckled playfully. "I was a _little_ concerned when you got back from your trip a couple of months ago."

"Oh were you?" Ed cracked one eye and tilted his head to look at her. "You never said anything."

Winry smirked at him and her hands ran back down his stomach. "It didn't last long."

Ed spun quickly, catching her arms and pinning Winry to the bed underneath him without warning. She squeaked in surprise until he silenced her with a heated kiss.

"Haven't you had enough exercise for one day?" Winry asked breathlessly several moments later.

Ed smiled. "Let's just say I'm feeling inspired."

**March 14th, 1951**

"I think I'm going to die," Heymans Breda groaned, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the morning sun. It was too much effort to roll over off his back. He hurt all over, worse than he ever did even after the PT tests.

"Edward warned you that you were going to be sore," Nancy replied without any remorse or sympathy in her voice. In fact, he was sure she sounded a little smug. "A walk before breakfast would make you feel better."

Breakfast; Breakfast was a nice word. "Can't I eat first?"

"You'll feel better if you stretch out first," Nancy pulled the pillow off his face and smiled down at him.

"I'd feel better if I didn't have a growling pit in the middle of my stomach," Breda groused, but he made himself sit up in bed and tried not to moan as he heard his back crack three times. His knees didn't sound much better this morning as he swung them around to the side of the bed, and his abdominal muscles complained. "This is…agony."

Nancy was already up and dressed. She just smiled and kissed his cheek. "Oh it's not that bad, honey. It'll get easier once you get used to it."

"Somehow the idea of getting used to suffering doesn't sound all that appealing," he sighed as he stood up, ignoring his protesting muscles. She was right, of course, just as she had been for the past nine years. At least Nancy wasn't the type to say 'I told you so' very often. Breda knew well enough that if he'd put more than a half-hearted attempt into this years ago, he wouldn't be suffering for it now, when it was just that much harder to lose!

Nancy chuckled. "You know what I mean, Heymans. Get dressed and go for a walk. Breakfast will be ready when you get back."

"All right," he smiled before leaning over and kissing his wife. It was really pretty hard to stay in a bad mood when she was around. "But only because a beautiful woman told me to."

"Blond or brunette?" Nancy teased him, crossing her arms even as she giggled.

Breda laughed and cringed as everything hurt fresh from the sudden movement. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. "I'll be sure to tell Ed you said that."

Nancy shook her head, still smiling. "Get dressed and get moving," was all she finally said in reply, though Breda knew there had to be several more sarcastic or amusing things running through her mind.

Breda smiled. "Yes ma'am."

Once he got outside and started walking, he actually did feel a little better. It wasn't particularly early – it was already after nine – but the weather was brisk enough that long pants and a light jacket were comfortable. A couple of the other neighbors were out and about, walking dogs or working in their yards. Breda noticed, for the first time really, that there were an awful lot of twenty-something women who apparently liked to go running in the mornings. Not that he _looked_. No of course not!

Breda went around their block and the next block over at a reasonable pace, and by the time he got home he could feel that at least his legs and sides had stretched out some. His stomach growled audibly as he headed back up the stairs and inside, where he was met by the pleasant scent of cooking food and the sound of the radio tuned in to one of Charisa and Niam's favorite morning children's story programs in the living room. As he passed the entrance, he could see both children sprawled out on the floor in front of the radio, listening with rapt attention.

He couldn't help pausing to watch them. The two adorable children that had come into their lives less than three years ago might as well be his; he loved them that much and so did Nancy. Charisa had latched onto them immediately. She was just that sweet and caring. She was almost six now, and her auburn hair had gotten long enough that Nancy pulled it back in tails most of the time to keep it out of the way. An adorable little charmer; that was his girl!

For Niam, they might as well have been his parents from the start. He didn't remember their birth parents at all; he'd only been an infant when they died. He was three and a half now, and with his strawberry blond hair he might as well be Breda's too. They both _looked_ like they could be his and Nancy's kids! Well, almost grandkids, if he was honest with himself given the age difference. But that didn't matter to Charisa and Niam. He and Nancy had fallen in love with the kids the first time they met them, and they'd been a family ever since.

That, right there, was his primary motivation. Up until a few days ago, Breda had never seriously considered the possibility that he might not live to see them grow up, and he knew that he couldn't bear to let _his_ kids lose someone else. He wanted to be there and watch and protect them for as long as he possibly could.

"Heymans, is that you?" Nancy poked her head out of the kitchen. "Would you please set the table?"

"I'll get it," Breda promised and went to get the plates.

As soon as the table was set, Nancy brought out the food. "Charisa! Niam! Breakfast!"

The two kids came bounding into the dining room and climbed up into their seats. "Smells wonderful," Charisa smiled as both children dug into plates of steaming eggs, bacon, toast and fresh fruit. "Thank you!"

Niam just nodded his appreciation, his mouth already full of eggs.

Nancy chuckled and set a plate down in front of her husband. "You're welcome."

Breda did not comment or complain about the portions on his own plate. He hadn't last night either. Nancy had been enthusiastic, as well as supportive, when he'd told her about his decision. There was plenty, he just knew that asking for seconds would be a lost cause!

"Can we go to the park later?" Charisa asked hopefully when she finished eating. "Kati and Rona are going to be there this afternoon." The twin sisters were in Charisa's class at school, and her best friends.

"I wanna go on the swings!" Niam's eyes lit up. He loved the park.

Breda smiled. "Sure we can go." Admittedly, his idea of a good time didn't involve all the running around that usually entailed, but he liked spending time with the kids and he would never miss out on time with them, even if what he really wanted to do was crash out on the couch and nap the day away.

"But _after_ your rooms are clean," Nancy cut into their cheering with a smirk.

Niam looked less than thrilled, but Charisa nodded. "Okay. Come on," she hopped down and ran around the table, grabbing Niam's hand. "Let's go!"

While the kids were upstairs, Breda helped Nancy with the dishes.

"I don't know how long I can do this," he admitted as he picked up a towel and started drying while she washed.

"Such a pessimist," Nancy smiled patiently over at him, "And after barely a day. You were just telling me last week you were _determined,_ that nothing was going to get in your way this time."

"Last week I didn't feel my age," Breda grumbled.

"So think of how much younger you're going to feel," Nancy countered his argument with her usual calm logic. Everything sounded reasonable coming out of her mouth.

Breda smirked and took another plate as she handed it to him. "I thought you liked older men," he teased.

"I like _you_," Nancy responded, her hands submerged in the soapy water. "The particulars don't matter."

"Lucky for me," Breda leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Nancy set the last plate on the drying rack for him. "Lucky for me that some handsome guy shared his umbrella with me on a rainy night," she kissed him back as she dried her hands and walked out of the kitchen. "I should go make sure the kids haven't destroyed their bedrooms trying to 'clean up.'"

After yesterday's over-lunch conversation, Breda couldn't help watching Nancy as she left and noticing that, like Winry, Nancy hardly looked like a lot of the middle-aged women he saw around the city either. Even being ten years younger than he was, she looked better than most women her own age. Most of the women Breda_ knew_ did: Riza, Gracia, Elicia, Sciezka, the wives of other officers he was friends with. They might not look like they did in their twenties, but they were healthy, and now he was beginning to realize how much effort that really took.

It was that difficult for his male friends too, most likely. For as long as he could remember, Breda had complained yearly and suffered as he scraped to meet the minimums for PT and to pass his physicals. Now he wondered if he'd just annoyed them. He'd never stopped to think about _how_ his friends never seemed to have trouble passing the same tests. The answer was, they worked harder than he had, and regularly when it proved necessary.

He'd been too embarrassed to admit to anyone at HQ that he hadn't _actually_ passed the physical portion of that exam in a few years, all though he'd managed the run and the other parts of the general PT. Every year he put up with Stevenson's stern looks and concerned lectures, or Nancy's frustrated looks when his suits never fit right. Breda had tried for years, but the last few he'd just kind of given up.

Nancy was right though. This time he was determined to succeed. There was too much at stake if he didn't.

**March 17****th****, 1951 **

"I'm glad they finally let Roy go home," Alphonse said as he leaned backwards against the back of the small couch in Edward's office. "I was pretty worried."

"Believe it or not, you weren't the only one," Ed admitted as he shoved the last papers for the day into his desk drawer to be dealt with tomorrow. The pneumonia had been severe enough that they had kept Roy in the hospital for three solid weeks. Both brothers had been to visit him several times now, and while Roy had been improving, it had been much slower than anyone liked, or than Ed would have anticipated. "Do you think the rumors are true?" It was rare that all Ed knew was a rumor. For him and Al both, they had gotten used to knowing the _facts_ around Central pretty much first.

"About_ making_ him retire?" Al asked, scowling. "I don't know. I asked Breda about it, but he wouldn't say anything other than that it wasn't his decision."

Ed grimaced. That couldn't be good. "I can't imagine he likes the idea anymore than I did." Roy had offered him retirement after the Xing War. Hell, he'd made it clear he thought it was what Ed _ought_ to do, and Ed had been pissed as hell about it. Especially when Winry had admitted she would have preferred it too. Still, he'd pushed through, and recovered, and made it back to where he wanted to be. But, if he was brutally honest and looked past his own dislike of making anyone do it, and looked at the trends Riza had talked about, it sounded a lot like something Roy should probably do for his own health.

"I'm sure we'll hear about it soon enough," Al said as he stood up. "Riza will talk to Winry and Elicia."

"And then we'll hear _all_ about it," Ed agreed with a smirk. "Let's get going, Al." He came around the desk, and was stopped by a knock at the door. "Come in?" Who was still here at this hour who had business with 'him' at the end of the day?

"Fullmetal, good you're still here," Marcus Kane said as he came in, looking harried. "I was afraid you'd left."

"What's wrong, Marcus?" Ed asked, not bothering with formalities, immediately concerned. It took a lot to make Kane uneasy.

The Sky Fire Alchemist sighed. "I just got a report in you need to see," he held it out for Ed to take.

Ed couldn't imagine what was so urgent that it required his personal attention until he saw the location and recognized it immediately as the mission on which Sara and Ethan had been sent! The one that had been extended thanks to a serious bout of flu and a temporary lack of doctors and medical supplies.

The report detailed an incident involving some local hoodlums robbing those who were too sick while they weren't in their homes. Sara and Ethan had gone out to 'correct the problem' and had ended up in an old building with a roof that had, literally, come down around their heads when the resulting brawl knocked out a weakened support beam. Ethan had gotten out with a few scrapes and bruises, but was reported fine. Sara, on the other hand, had a concussion and two fractures in the bone of her lower left leg. At least they were both alive! "Damn it," Ed clenched the paper tightly in his hands then handed it back to Marcus before he mangled it further.

"When will they be coming home?" Al asked. Apparently he'd been reading over Ed's shoulder.

"I just got off the phone," Marcus sighed. "They said they'll send them both home in a couple days, expect them home in a week. The doctor's staying up there longer, and I've already called up a couple of replacements to help him out who will be leaving in the morning."

Ed realized his hands were shaking slightly. Given how many times he'd gotten unexpected bad news in his life, it could have been so much worse. Still, it was a close call. That could have just as easily been a missive telling him two of his kids were dead. "Thanks," he replied gruffly.

"I'll let you know when I hear more," Marcus promised, sighing. "I just thought you ought to know."

Ed nodded again, and Marcus seemed to take that as enough of a dismissal and ducked out.

"Ed?" Al said after a moment.

"That was a close one," Ed replied quietly. "Someday, just once, I'd like to get _good_ unexpected news about my family."

Al sighed and nodded. "Let's go home, Ed."

* * *

Roy was glad to be out of the hospital, if only because he was sick of the lousy food, pushy medical professionals, and the fact that somehow Stevenson had managed to schedule it so every nurse that came through Roy's room was ugly, old, male, or all three. Still, he wouldn't have said he was _free_. Stevenson had only let him go on the condition that he couldn't go back to work yet, at all. He'd even sent that information right on up to Breda's office before Roy had been allowed to check out of the hospital. He wasn't technically house-bound, but with Riza as 'warden' he knew he wouldn't be getting out much.

Not that he really could have done much at work anyway, much as Roy hated to admit it, even to himself. He was still exhausted easily, and the cough hadn't entirely gone away. He had no choice but to _take it easy_ for a little while longer. It really grated on him though. He hated showing weakness_; being_ this weak was even worse.

The real kicker though, had been Stevenson's final recommendation; the one that had been on the official records. As if Roy had any intention of _retiring_ from active duty! As soon as Roy got home, he called up Breda directly to see what his old compatriot thought of Stevenson's ridiculous suggestion.

"I think he's right," had _not_ been the answer Roy had been looking for. After another minute of rather heated discussion –at least it was heated on Roy's end- he'd hung up on Breda and gone upstairs to _get some rest_ as he had been _instructed_ to do, turning down Riza's offer of tea or lunch. He was irritated and not at all hungry.

* * *

Riza left Roy alone for most of the afternoon. When he said he wanted some time alone to think, it was usually best to give him a little space. She hadn't expected him to like Stevenson's suggestion. In fact, she had been expecting more of a spectacle at the hospital than had actually occurred; at least in that there hadn't been any alchemy involved. The doctor had mentioned it to her first and Riza was completely behind it. Not that she had told Roy that yet. There hadn't been a right moment to bring it up again, and she knew he would feel betrayed by her decision.

When dinner was almost ready, she finally went back upstairs. She paused, knocking on the door, just to let him know she was coming. When she got no answer, she opened it and looked inside.

The lights were off, and the room was already almost night-dark with the sun setting outside. The silhouette of a body under the covers was the only sign that Roy was actually in the room. "Dinner's ready," Riza said.

It was several seconds before Roy stirred. "No thanks," he replied without much emotion at all. She wasn't sure if she had woken him up, but she suspected he hadn't actually been sleeping.

"You should have something," she suggested again, a little more firmly.

"I'm not hungry," came the equally lethargic reply.

Riza frowned. "Liar." He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and she knew that for a fact.

"No, Riza."

That was really all he had to say on the subject? Riza sighed, but closed the door and went back downstairs again. She had known the suggestion would hit him hard, she had just hoped that he would confide in her more. It seemed though, that even after forty years of knowing each other, some things never changed. He needed time, and that was apparently all he wanted from her right now.

**March 23****rd****, 1951**

The train with Sara and Ethan on it arrived early in the afternoon in Central, while Ed was stuck in classes. Fortunately for him, Stevenson insisted on seeing them both in the hospital before he was willing to let them go home. So by the time they were actually cleared and done with that, Ed was there with the car to take them home.

It had been decided over the last couple of days that Sara would be staying back at the family house until she was well enough to get around on her own. A busted leg and a concussion did not make for stable maneuvering! With her apartment on the second floor, staying there just wasn't a good idea anyway. Ethan had willingly temporarily given up his downstairs bedroom to move up to the _guest_ room so that Sara wouldn't have to tackle stairs and could have the downstairs bathroom.

"I hate to put you to so much trouble," Sara objected when Ed explained the house re-arrangement plan in the car on the drive home. "I can manage fine on my own."

"Now I _know_ you have a concussion," Ed laughed. "It's not a problem."

To Ed's surprise, Maes Mustang was waiting with Winry when they got to the house.

"Looks like the princess slipped and fell _out_ of the tower," Maes teased as he opened the door and helped Sara out of the car.

"How did you know I was going to be home today?" Sara asked, looking surprised.

Maes shrugged, grinning. "I have my sources."

"Riza told him," Winry cut in as she came in on Sara's other side. Even with crutches Sara was pretty unsteady. They took her inside and straight to bed; doctors orders. She wouldn't be doing a lot of moving around until her head was better anyway, given the nausea even sitting up in the car had been causing.

Ed had had enough concussions to know what his daughter was going through.

"Feeling spoiled rotten yet?" Ethan teased her once Sara was comfortably settled in bed with snacks and drinks in easy reach, reading material if she wanted it, her busted leg resting on soft cushions.

"Ask me that when I feel something other than pain and nausea," Sara quipped, smiling until it was broken by a large yawn. "And exhaustion," she amended the statement.

"Get some sleep," Ed patted the covers with one hand. He knew she'd be sleeping a lot for another few days until her head healed up completely. "We'll be in ear shot if you need anything."

"Thanks again, Dad, Mom."

"See you later," Maes waved and then Ed herded everyone out of the room.

"Nice to see everyone's so concerned about me," Ethan teased once the door was closed.

"You've proven not to have the infamous Elric _bad luck _on missions," Winry countered, hugging her son tightly. "Or at least less of it," she looked at the bandages visible on his arms thanks to the short sleeves of his shirt.

"Just scratches," Ethan assured her. "I'm just kinda tired. It was a long trip."

Ed looked his son over more closely. _Kinda tired_ sounded like an understatement. Ethan looked a little pale, and like he hadn't slept well since the incident. "You've been using alchemy," he spoke almost without thinking.

"Well of course he has," Maes cut in, not getting what Ed meant.

Ethan understood though. He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah."

Winry looked between them both then suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

"On Sara," Ethan clarified. "When the building came down I had to drag her out and she was unconscious, and bleeding. Her leg was bent funny to," he cringed and Ed could imagine the visual well enough. "I didn't try and fix anything specific I just…" he shrugged then.

"Did it work?" Ed asked.

"She looked a little better after," Ethan nodded. "I don't know what it helped if anything specifically. Mostly her head I think. They were surprised when they examined her head."

"Wait, you used alchemy _on_ Sara?" Maes looked stunned.

"Well yeah," Ethan looked up at him. "Just the stuff we learned in Xing. I'm not really great with it yet, but if you do it right you can't hurt the patient."

"But it's pretty tough on the alchemist," Ed cut in, crossing his arms. "So after that?"

"Just a little each day," Ethan admitted. "Sara was in a lot of pain, and it was really bad knock to the head."

Winry seemed to finally understand what they were talking about. "So you've been _helping_ your sister."

"Yeah, but that's not happening anymore," Ed cut in, giving Ethan a sharp look. "It's not necessary now." No wonder the kid looked beat!

"Right," Ethan sighed and nodded.

Ed relented a little, smiling then. "You did a good job, but wearing yourself ragged isn't good for you either. Let's get a good meal in you and then you're off to bed too."

"I should get going," Maes smiled as he headed for the door. "Though I want to hear more about this alchemy technique later!" he said as he let himself out.

As the door closed, Ed heard Ethan's stomach growl loudly. Ethan blushed but grinned. "Umm… I think I'll take you up on that offer of food now, if you don't mind!"

**March 24****th****, 1951**

Franz Heimler felt guilty and a little nervous as he approached the front door of the Elric's home. Of course, he had been there several times before, but the circumstances had been a little different. Right now, he was trying not to wonder if Sara was bothered by the fact that Maes Mustang had been the first one over to see her. It was stupid, of course, but that didn't mean he could help wondering. Lately, she had been giving him looks that he didn't think she realized she was giving. She was getting impatient. Sooner or later, he was going to have to do something definitive about their relationship one way or the other; whether to just keep it at friendship, or try that next step.

He knocked and then inclined his head politely when Sara's mother opened the door, momentarily relieved that it wasn't General Elric. As well as he and Edward Elric got along on a professional level, he wasn't entirely sure what the man's feelings were on his and Sara's long standing friendship or if he had any idea how Sara felt. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Elric," he smiled. "I hope you don't mind my stopping by."

Winry gave him a mildly amused look that Franz couldn't help but find slightly worrisome even as she smiled. "Of course I don't mind. Come in, Franz. Sara will be glad to see you."

"I hope so," Franz stepped inside at her invitation and followed Winry when she led him down the hall.

"She's in the downstairs bedroom," Winry informed him. "Go right in. She's awake at the moment."

The thick lump that had lodged itself in Franz's throat when he had found out about Sara's injury and that she was back in town returned as he paused momentarily outside the door. The way Sara's mother said _at the moment_ implied she was sleeping a lot. Of course, with a concussion, that would make sense. It was only when he noticed Winry giving him a slightly odd looked that Franz opened the door and ducked inside.

Sara was awake, as he'd been told, sitting up in bed with the help of several pillows, with a book open on her lap, though she didn't look like she was focusing too hard on it. She looked up when he entered, and smirked at him, an amused smile at odds with the heavy cast on her leg, the bandage around her forehead, and the fading black eye on one side of her face. "It took you long enough," she quipped.

Franz felt immediately guilty. "I just found out you were back in town today," he admitted. "Maes told me," he added, though he hoped it wasn't apparent how much it frustrated him that Maes had known before he did!

"His mother clued him in that I was coming home," Sara nodded, though she smiled as if perhaps she knew how he felt anyway. It was very likely that she did at this point.

Franz pushed his glasses back up his nose as they slid down a little, and smiled. "Well I'm here now. How are you feeling?" he sat down on the edge of the bed, trying not to jostle her. He'd never seen Sara look so well…delicate!

Not that she acted much like it either. "Pretty lousy," Sara admitted with a small, casual shrug. "But my folks are spoiling me rotten for the first time in my life, so I can't really complain," she chuckled.

"You deserve it more often," Franz replied. He couldn't help doing it himself every once in a while. As tough as Sara liked to act, he had seen her when she was vulnerable and when she really needed support. It made him feel good to be able to help her through those times. A little something extra that a lot of girls would have just kind of blown off or thought of as a simple gesture meant a lot to Sara, and he loved watching her reactions.

Sara smiled. "No I don't. Being spoiled makes you soft. Still, it's nice once in a while."

"So…" Franz tried to find a safe topic of discussion. "What…how did it happen?"

Over the course of about fifteen minutes, Sara told him the whole story. "When I woke up, I was already back in the medical center and it was a full day later," she finally got around to near the end, then stopped and drank a glass of water. "Sorry this is taking so long," she apologized.

"No I'm sorry," Franz smiled back, feeling a little silly, but guilty too. She was obviously still recovering, but not anywhere near close to being fully healed up. He was glad she was here and not trying to stay in her apartment! "I shouldn't be wearing you out."

"Oh please," Sara rolled her eyes. "All you did was ask a question."

"And you gave me more than an adequate answer," Franz laughed.

"I missed you," Sara surprised him then, smiling softly. It had been a longer trip than she had planned by weeks, Franz knew, and obviously much more dangerous. They had gotten used to seeing each other pretty much daily when she was in town, and it had been a while since her last mission.

Franz smiled. "I missed you too," he replied. She was doing it again though, he realized: fishing, leaving open those little moments that were perfect for any guy to jump in and _admit his true feelings_ or say something cute, funny, romantic; perfect lead ins. It was like fishing with live bait, but Franz wasn't ready to bite.

"Look, I'm sorry this has to be short, but I do need to go…." He said, getting up. "You should rest and I've got things to do." Okay, so he was pretty much lying through his teeth unless he counted sorting his socks and ironing his uniform shirts. On this occasion, he was doing just that!

"All right," Sara agreed, and he wasn't sure if she could tell he was ducking out or not. He hoped not. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel bad. "Come back again soon though," she made him promise.

"Of course," Franz smiled. He couldn't say no to her. "See you later."

Franz was crossing the living room when he noticed the General sitting on the couch, watching him. It was then that Franz remembered that the door had been open, and wondered how much the other man had heard.

"Major, I'd like to talk to you." Franz winced. He'd made Major less than two months ago. Up till now he'd kind of liked the sound of it. At the moment though, he wasn't so sure.

"Yes, General?" he asked, keeping it formal since he had. He couldn't think of Sara's father as anything other than 'the General' with the contemplative, dead-serious look on Edward Elric's face as he crossed the room and stopped a few feet away, so he didn't really have to look _up _so much to meet Franz's eyes.

The way Elric spoke was quiet, serious, but not _quite_ threatening. "You know she's waiting for you to get off your ass and make a decision don't you? So if you're not going to take the chance, don't drag this out. She probably _would_ wait for you forever, but we both know it wouldn't be fair."

Well, that was blunt! Franz swallowed. He hadn't told Franz _not_ to call him General either. Not a good sign. "I know," he replied simply. "What would you suggest I do?" It was part question, part challenge. This wasn't business, it was personal. But in some ways, that made it more dangerous.

The expression in General Elric's eyes was intense. There was no other word for it. Not angry, but intense all the same. "I'm saying make up your mind. Cause if the answer is no, it's better to break her heart now and let her get over it."

:"Understood…Sir." Franz really couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd never expected the General to get_ that_ directly involved as to say something that intrusive in regards to Sara's personal life. Apparently the Fullmetal Alchemist was feeling even more protective of his daughter than usual.

For reasons he understood far too well, that made Franz very nervous.

* * *

Riza paused in the living room as she pulled on a light jacket. "I'm meeting Maes for lunch," she spoke to Roy, who sat on the couch with a book in his lap, still in his pajamas, reading intently. "He invited us both you know. Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"I'm sure," Roy replied without looking up. "I'm reading."

"I can see that," she replied with a sigh, trying not to sound too frustrated. Roy hadn't left the house in the several days he'd been home. He usually didn't get up until late in the morning, and he had shown no interest in anything she offered him. Oh he ate if she left food in front of him long enough, but he had no opinions at all on what they had, or how it was done. Riza suspected she could have served him pitch tar instead of coffee and he wouldn't have said one word of complaint. "If you're bored, we could always have someone over."

"I'm fine." He said it so firmly, Riza knew he was lying.

"I'll be back in a little while." There wasn't much else to say when he was being non-responsive. Roy had always been moody, and more prone to dark moods than anything else.

She never liked it when Roy shut down though. It was rare, and it always meant there was something wrong.

**April 1****st****, 1951**

It was a nice day and Edward was glad he'd decided to walk to work today instead of driving. As he walked home in the afternoon, he appreciated the time it gave him to think and relax a little. Things had been so hectic lately, sometimes it was hard to find time to just breathe! Watching the world, signs of spring were all around. The trees had turned fuzzy with pale new leaves almost overnight and everything was blossoming with the warm onset of the season. Birds were singing in the trees and children were playing in front yards before dinner.

It made Ed feel a little nostalgic to watch other people's kids lately. It didn't seem that long ago sometimes that Sara had been a baby in his arms, or that he used to help her tie her shoes. He remembered so many days playing with her and the dogs in the back yard, and then Sara and Aldon. There were memories of all three of them when they were still little.

Okay, so watching other people's kids made him feel old! He had two grown children and a teenage son who was no more of a kid than Ed had been. Heck, he had a grandson! That was more than his own parents had ever seen. Ed could imagine now how his mother had felt, knowing she was dying and leaving her two young boys to go on without her. It only made him love and miss her more.

"Well don't you look lost in thought?"

Ed glanced up, surprised by the amusement in the female voice. Then he recognized the well-dressed woman standing on the street. "Gracia! Hello."

"Good afternoon, Edward," Gracia chuckled. "I'm sorry to interrupt your musings."

"No, that's all right," he smiled, a little embarrassed at being caught reminiscing. "How have you been? I feel bad; we haven't seen much of you lately."

Gracia smiled back. "I've been well and don't you worry about it. I do have a life of my own you know. I don't just sit at home wishing you'd come by." She winked at him, and Ed couldn't help but laugh, blushing slightly. "And I do see Elicia and Alphonse all the time," she reminded him.

Well of course she did, and Alyse and Will too Ed was sure, since they _were_ her grandchildren. "So, where are you off to?" Ed asked, curious. Not that Gracia wasn't always nicely dressed, but she definitely looked dressed up to go out somewhere.

It was Gracia's turn to blush, just a little. "Well I'm… meeting up with someone," she admitted.

"Someone?" Ed let the emphasis on the word speak volumes.

"A gentleman," Gracia replied, meeting his amused look evenly. "A good friend of mine. We're having dinner."

Ed chuckled. "You know, I think kids these days call that a _date_." He was teasing her now, but she didn't seem to mind. The idea that, after so many years, Gracia actually had someone who caught her interest made Ed feel better actually. They had all worried that she would be lonely, living by herself, especially after the kids had long outgrown needing to be watched after school.

Gracia chuckled softly. "Well, it's not some great romance or anything, but he's a nice guy. You know, for so long I'd look at Elicia and all I could see was my Maes," her expression softened a little. "And I still do, and I still love him, but now he's more of a wonderful memory."

Ed nodded. "He was a great guy."

"He was," Gracia smiled. "But I finally feel like maybe I'm ready to move on, really and, this may sound silly," she looked a little embarrassed. "But I have the feeling that, if he could talk to me, he'd tell me '_it's about time_.'"

Ed couldn't help laughing with her. Yeah, Hughes would have said that. He would never have wanted Gracia to be alone. "He would," he agreed then he felt himself sobering a little. "How's Grace?" he asked, thinking of the other widowed friend currently staying at Gracia's.

"She's doing all right," Gracia replied. "It takes time, but she's a tough girl. I was thinking about staying home to keep her company, but she told me if I didn't go out tonight she's kick me out the door herself."

"Not subtle at all." Ed was glad to hear it though. He'd been concerned.

"How's Sara?" Gracia asked back at him.

"Healing," Ed smiled, "Impatient to get up and around of course." Not that he blamed her. Sara was _almost_ as bad a patient as he was! "But she's feeling a lot better."

"I'll have to drop by and say hello," Gracia said.

"You're always welcome," Ed replied. It was probably an unnecessary reminder, but they hadn't seen as much of her as they used to, and Ed felt bad about that.

"Thanks, Edward," Gracia smiled. "Well, I do need to go. It was good talking with you."

"You too." Ed watched her walk past him then continued on his way home. He was happy for Gracia. It was nice to see that someone was having a good day, and had something good going on in her life with everything else that seemed to be dropping on them lately. He hoped it was a sign that things would continue to improve.

**April 3****rd****, 1951 **

It had been a very long day. Riza had spent most of it running around town. There had been some necessary errands, dropping by Headquarters for a couple of meetings, and then a much needed lunch with Winry where she could vent her frustrations without worrying about hurting Roy's feelings. She was running out of patience, and she was getting more worried with every passing day. Roy was sullen, withdrawn, depressed. It had been a long time since she had seen him draw in on himself this dramatically. He never wanted people over and he rarely went out. He had a couple of times, but he hadn't said where he was going or where he had been when he got back.

Some days he rarely got out of bed. So Riza was not surprised to get home and find Roy still in his pajamas, but standing looking out the large picture windows that lined the back of the living room. All she could see was his back. "I'm home," she announced as she hung up her light jacket and came into the room, walking towards him. Lately she announced herself just to make sure he realized she was still there. It did not guarantee her much of a response. Riza frowned, however, when she realized that Roy was drinking. Or rather, as she realized what was in the tumbler he held in his hand. "You know Stevenson's orders," she commented crossly.

"Good evening to you too," Roy replied acerbically without turning around.

"You promised you were going to listen," Riza knew she sounded irritable, but enough was enough! She couldn't take much more of him acting this way.

Roy snorted and sipped from the glass. "I didn't say I'd obey."

That just made her angrier. "Put it down." She reached for the glass, but Roy pulled it up sharply, glowering at her with his one eye.

"Leave me alone," Roy growled. "I'll do what I want."

Riza's reflexes were sharper though, and her hand caught the glass anyway. Instead of grabbing it though, she knocked it out of his hand and winced as it crashed against the corner where the wall and floor met and shattered, spilling liquor and slivers of glass across the hardwood floor.

"Well now _that_ was mature," Roy snorted, rounding on her.

"Like your behavior is," Riza snapped back, her temper cracking. "It's not just this time, Mustang," she still called him by last name when she got angry enough out of habit. "Stevenson specifically told you to cut back." Actually, there had been a rather lengthy list of things Roy _needed_ to do, in Stevenson's opinion if he wanted to improve his health before his body totally broke down from the strains and abuse Roy regularly put it through: everything from work schedule to the fact that Roy drank more than was really good for him; had for years, despite Riza's efforts. There was only so far Roy could be pushed, and it had always been a difficult line to walk. "You try and act like you're still twenty five and you're not!"

"As if that wasn't obvious," Roy glowered. "Thanks for the unnecessary reminder, _Lieutenant_. I'll store it away with the last forty years of _helpful advice._"

That stung. Riza tried a different tactic. "What's wrong, Roy?" she asked. Maybe something had happened today that she didn't know about.

"Oh, not much," Roy's response was sarcastic. "Just verified that just about everyone I know thinks I'm completely washed up just 'cause I'm out sick for a few days."

"It was pneumonia for a _month_!" Riza pointed out. "You couldn't even get out of bed!"

"So a man can't get sick?"

He was ignoring the facts he didn't like, as usual. Riza shook her head. "_Once_, Roy; _occasionally_, but it's been more often than that and you know it. Your health has been getting worse for years now and you insist on ignoring it! You can't continue pretending that nothing's wrong."

"Breda, Falman, Feury, even Armstrong; they all think I should retire," Roy snorted, dodging her accusation entirely. "Breda said he won't make it an order, but he said it would be for the best." It was obvious that Roy didn't want to believe it. The look in his eye was one of pain and abandonment.

He was going to hate her. "I think you should too," Riza replied softly, looking up into his anguished face. "You can't keep pushing yourself so hard; the work load, the stress. You're too hard on yourself and seem determined to undermine every effort I make to make sure you take care of your body properly." She crossed her arms and steeled her resolve.

Roy turned away angrily. "I hate getting old!"

"I don't mind," Riza followed him around, putting one hand on his arm, hoping maybe she could calm him and down make him see reason, "As long as we're together."

"Well I do!" Roy spun back around fast, pulling away from her arm. "_This isn't about you_!"

Wasn't about her? "Fine!" She shouted, losing it. She felt the tears break, refusing to be held back any longer. Weeks of worrying, taking care of him, fearing something might happen, to be followed by his complete lack of response or _any_ attempt to do the things that were necessary; to be told _she_ didn't matter. "If you want to die alone so badly, why don't you just get it over with!" She barely registered the stunned expression on Roy's face as she turned and fled the house crying, letting the door slam behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

**(Still) April 3****rd****, 1951  
**

"Check-mate," Sara grinned as she moved her rook into place next to Ed's king. She was curled up on the couch in the living room, her leg propped up with pillows. They had pulled the coffee table closer and Ed had pulled a chair around the far side so they could play chess.

Ed laughed and sat back in his chair, impressed. "Nice game. You want to play another?" She had improved in the last couple of years and they were pretty evenly matched.

"I don't think we'll have time before Mom gets home," Sara pointed out with a shrug. "That already makes four games this afternoon."

"I guess we'll have to play the tie-breaker later," Ed grinned. Winry would be annoyed at Ed taking off from work early to spend a little time with Sara and _not_ at least starting dinner! He stood up and stretched to get a kink out of his back. As he moved around the table to head into the kitchen the doorbell rang.

"I wonder who that is," Sara looked up from re-setting the chess game for play later. She was facing the doorway.

"I'll get it." Ed answered the door to find a very distraught looking Riza standing on his doorstep. She strode right in before he even had a chance to say hello.

"Thank goodness you're home," she said, turning around to face him as he closed the door. "Edward,_ please_, I need you to talk to him!"

"Whoa, slow down. What?" Ed held up a hand. She was so jumbled he wasn't sure he followed. "You want me to talk to Roy?"

Riza nodded, her tear-stained face showing nothing but concern. "I'm scared he'll do something stupid. I knew he was upset, but we had a fight and… it didn't end well."

"Why me though?" Ed asked. Not that he wasn't willing but, "Wouldn't Winry or Al be better suited for this kind of thing?"

"I think you're the only person he'll listen to," Riza surprised him. "He needs someone who understands."

"If you say so," Ed sighed. "Calm down," he said again as he put one hand on her arm. "I'll go talk to him if you think it will help. Are you all right?" If she was this shaken up, it had to be one hell of a fight! He'd never seen Riza break down in tears before.

"No, I'm not," Riza admitted, sniffling. "Stupid Roy Mustang! I've been running around behind that man since he was eighteen, and I still feel like I'm just _watching his back_." The last came out with a bitter sob that nearly broke Ed's heart. This was _Riza_ he was watching cry…and it was all Roy's fault.

"You stay here with Sara," Ed headed for the door. "Tell Winry I'll be back, okay?"

"We'll tell her," Sara called from the couch even as Riza nodded.

"Thank you," Riza said. It was the last thing Ed heard before the door closed and he was heading down to the car. Ed drove over to the Mustang house with mixed feelings. He really didn't know what the fight had been about other than the likely usual suspects, and he was almost fuming by the time he pulled up and got back out of the car.

The house door wasn't locked so Ed just opened it and went inside, prepared to get into a fight with Roy. But then, he'd done it often enough in his life. That idea didn't intimidate him. Perhaps that was why Riza had sought him out.

With the sun setting, the large living room was mostly in shadow. The lights weren't on and it took Ed a moment to locate Roy. And then it was just his leg, which he could see sticking out a little from behind the back of the couch, still facing out towards the back windows. The leg twitched and Ed could hear him breathing. "So," he spoke clearly into the silence. "What idiotic thing did you say to make her cry?" There was no immediate response, though Roy's leg stopped moving. Then Ed thought he heard the sound of glass being set down on the wood. He knew that sound better than he ever liked to admit. "Yeah, you _are _pathetic," he continued in his most annoying trying-to-piss-Roy-off mode. "What is this shit, Roy? You already lost your best friend, you already dealt with the fact you destroyed thousands of lives in Ishbal. Neither of those drove you this far. Even Jean would say he didn't mean _this_ much to you….so what's with the melodrama over a few gray hairs?" Yes, he was trying to provoke a reaction. He just hoped it work.

"Nice motivational speech," Roy finally replied flatly. "You use it on your subordinates?"

"Nah." Ed came over to the couch then and around the edge. "Just ass holes, regardless of rank." Roy was leaning against the back of the couch in long legged-long sleeved pajamas with light blue and white stripes. He matched the mostly white with blue accented décor of the room, though Ed didn't find that amusing. There was a bottle of brandy on the floor beside him. Ed spotted the busted glass against the wall too which, he estimated, accounted for _some_ of what was missing from the bottle. He sighed and walked over to the glass. "You shouldn't be drinking this stuff right now," he commented as he clapped his hands and put the glass back together. He left the brandy on the floor.

"Oh like _you_ have room to talk on your liquor-soaked soap box," Roy snorted behind him. "I've been drinking this stuff since I was eighteen."

"You waited that long?" Ed quipped as he used a regular towel to wipe up the floor. It gave him something to do while he felt out the situation. He had to keep his own head. The idea was to help here, not make things worse. "And here I thought you were one of the '_young, precocious_' officer types." He let the sarcasm be obvious, though Roy didn't seem particularly drunk. Ed had spent enough time with Roy by now to tell. Though that made the argument with Riza that much more disturbing. He wished he had a better idea of just what had been said.

"I was young and arrogant and stupid," Roy countered, shrugging as Ed turned around and looked down at him. Roy had a distant look on his face. "We all were. We had no idea what we were in for, not the State Alchemists or the regulars. They sent us out into the battle field full of ourselves, and we were lucky if we came back without getting filled full of lead. That's all there was to do, when we weren't killing people. Drink too much, smoke a little, and brag about the pretty girls we knew back home. Anything but talk about what we had to do." He picked up the bottle again despite Ed's frown and drank.

For lack of a better spot, Ed dropped down on the floor next to Roy, leaning his back up against the couch. He just waited.

"You know I always thought I'd be dead before I got this far," Roy admitted a minute later, still apparently intent on waxing nostalgic. "When we went into Ishbal, when I tried to kill myself, when I considered attempting human transmutation; I didn't _expect_ to live through those moments. When I went after Bradley, I was almost completely convinced we'd take each other down in the process. I just… never figured on getting _old._ I always thought I'd die fighting."

Well that explained a lot. Ed had known for years that Roy wasn't fond of getting old. But then, most people weren't. Ed had been so sure he was dead so many times, he _almost_ celebrated being old enough to have a couple of lighter golden streaks in his hair and stiff joints on cold mornings. "I'm sure we could arrange that if that's your preference, but I think there's a beautiful woman who wants to keep you around for a while," he replied.

Roy sighed. "She deserves better," he commented with a wry, quirked expression on his face. It wasn't a smile. "I never deserved her devotion and loyalty. I still don't." Ed could hardly believe what he was hearing. Silently he revised his opinion of Roy's mental stability. Riza's recent complaints about his behavior and worries in general were taking on a whole different light. Roy continued. "You know, if she hadn't always been watching my back, she could probably have done better in the ranks than even me. Really, I think I've been the one holding _her_ back all this time."

"Riza made her decision," Ed sighed, resting his arms on his bent knees. "Whether you like it or not, she _chose_ to support you. It's not like anyone's ever been able to really _make _her do anything." Roy had to know that. "Don't make her regret it."

"Too late for that," Roy drank again. "You didn't see the look on her face when she left."

"I saw the one when she showed up at my door," Ed countered. "You've got the most unflappable woman I've ever known terrified, Mustang. I didn't think I'd ever see Riza in tears. But she begged me to come over here."

"What for?" Roy snorted.

"Frankly, she was afraid you'd do something stupid," Ed admitted as he reached out and laid his auto-mail hand firmly on the bottle.

Roy tried to raise it, with no luck. "So she sent you to pick up the body."

"I didn't say that," Ed replied, though it answered one question he'd had. Roy had admitted years ago that he'd actually tried to kill himself over the Rockbells' murder. Riza had clearly thought him capable of that again.

"You didn't have to," Roy replied. "Let go."

"No dice," Ed shook his head. "Not unless you're prepared to get your ass kicked fighting me over something that stupid. Besides, one squeeze and I can bust that thing like it's not even there."

Roy glared at him but let go of the bottle. "It's not worth it."

"Good. I'd be worried if it was." Ed set the bottle on the far side of him. "What the hell is this really about, Roy?" he asked then; no sarcasm, just real concern. "Havoc's death? Retirement? What?"

"I thought Al was the psycho-analyst in your family?" Roy quipped as he had to turn his head to look at Ed since Ed was sitting on Roy's left.

"I'm filling in tonight. He had plans," Ed countered with a shrug. "Don't worry. You get the discount rate."

"Thank goodness for that," Roy smirked then he shrugged and all the amusement drained from his face. "I told you. I never figured on living this long. I never figured I'd outlive my own goals."

"So set new ones," Ed replied. "Stevenson said retirement. Retired isn't dead."

"I don't fear death," Roy sighed. "But I don't like being old and weak… and useless."

"So don't be," Ed scowled. "Okay, so you can't help being an old man," he smirked. "You've been that since I met you." The lack of a glare from Roy was a little unsettling. "But you're only useless if you choose to be."

"What's left when you have no purpose?" Roy asked and Ed had the feeling Roy really didn't know.

"You find a new one," Ed said. He couldn't help the feeling of mild hypocrisy he felt and chuckled at the irony. "Wow it feels weird being on this end of the conversation."

"What you actually think I should give up and retire too? You sure sound like it," Roy scowled and sounded like he might work up enough energy to get angry again.

"I think you should give up on all that stupid paperwork," Ed said pointedly. "Even if you retired, you really think you'd stop being the Flame Alchemist? _Retired_ four-star General and former President isn't exactly nothing, you idiot. So you retire from active duty," Ed shrugged. "Do you know what they'd kill – and pay – to get you on doing guest lectures on military history at the University? Or hell, even at OCS here at Headquarters. You'd have time to come out and give me a hand showing up egotistical young brats too," he smirked at that last. "I hear you have some experience in that area."

The hint of a smile appeared on one side of Roy's mouth. "I do have that," he replied and actually looked contemplative. Finally! It looked like Ed might be getting somewhere. "I have to admit the idea of a sea of people paying to listen to me is kind of appealing."

"Teaching has its perks," Ed agreed smugly. He enjoyed the fact that people listened to him, practically hanging on his every word at times. It was a lot better than the frustration of being constantly ignored and pushed aside as a kid until it was almost too late! "There's nothing to keep you from showing up and raising hell at HQ sometimes either."

"That could be fun." Roy didn't have nearly the emotional rebound time Ed did, Ed had noticed. While Roy had a temper, his _moods_ tended to last longer. He was thinking now but Ed wasn't fooled. It was one of the worst bouts of depression he'd ever seen. If Riza's concerns were any indication, he'd been like this for weeks.

"Assuming your pride will let you live that long," Ed added one more dig. "It's not that we're trying to get rid of you. Believe or not, no one wants to lose your sorry ass."

"And you really think that's likely to happen anytime soon?" Roy snorted with his usual cynicism.

"If you keep on like this, abso-frickin-lutely," Ed frowned. "Ten years ago we had a little chat in your office about how well you knew how screwed up I was after the whole Xing mess. Well that goes both ways, but I wasn't willing to give up without a fight. You've given up without even trying."

Roy opened his mouth to argue but, to Ed's surprise, he snapped it shut again a moment later as if realization was dawning. "So," Roy asked after a couple of minutes. "What would you recommend, oh _great_ and knowledgeable Fullmetal Alchemist?"

Ed ignored the sarcasm for now. He'd forgive it of a sick man; at least this time. "Take it," he replied honestly. "As well as everything else Stevenson had to say, and Riza's no doubt been trying to enforce. Unless you're really just willing to give it all up and die and leave Riza all by herself with no purpose left to her own life?"

Roy looked stung and immensely guilty. "If she comes back."

"Well I can't figure out why she loves you in the first place," Ed grinned. "But I don't think there's any question of _if_'; _when_ maybe. She was pretty shaken up." He stood and offered Roy a hand. "I should call home and make sure everything's all right and let them know you and I haven't blown up the place."

The jest was enough to get another small smirk out of Roy. At this point, Ed would take what he could get. "I should have called and had you arrested for trespassing." Roy stood up.

Ed laughed dryly. "They'd have seen it was you and me and run the other way," he shook his head, "Or called the fire department in preparation to put out the blaze."

"That might be interesting," Roy said.

Ed went to the phone and called home. While he talked to Winry, Roy grew pensive again, his face a dark worried scowl until Ed hung up the phone.

"Well?" Roy asked. "How's Riza?"

"Pretty shaken," Ed replied honestly. He wasn't going to start sugar-coating things now. "Winry said they had a cup of tea and then she made Riza lie down. She's asleep right now."

Roy's face fell. "So now what?" It was the first time Ed had ever seen Roy at a complete loss.

Ed sighed. There was no way he could leave Roy alone in this state. He was too unstable and Ed wasn't that heartless. But he couldn't stay all night and he wasn't sure having Roy come over to his place was a good idea right now either. Both Roy and Riza needed some time to recover before they talked and Ed really wanted to know a little more about the fight first, though Winry had been able to give him some details over the phone. It was no wonder Riza had been pissed! "Look, I think Winry's right on this one. You both need some sleep and a little perspective. How about I give Maes a call and he can stay over here tonight?"

"Afraid I'll off myself while you're gone?" Roy snorted sardonically. "Or are you just tired of the _pleasure_ of my company?"

"More of the former though the latter's coming up a close second," Ed retorted. "Let's just say it's for everyone's peace of mind and do it for Riza okay?"

That was the right angle to take apparently. Roy nodded, looking defeated. "All right, call Maes."

The call was quickly made and Roy's son was more than willing to come right over after Ed briefly explained the situation while Roy was in the bathroom. He waited around until Maes arrived, then headed home feeling a lot better about things than he had a couple of hours ago when Riza appeared on his doorstep. Roy might have a lot of issues to work through but, at least for today, Ed was just glad to end it with all his remaining friends living.

* * *

Winry and Sara were still up when Ed got home, it really wasn't _that_ late in the evening, but Riza was still passed out in the upstairs guest room where Ethan had been living while Sara was in the downstairs bedroom. Ethan had come home while Ed was gone and joked about being slowly shoved out of his own house, though Ed knew he didn't actually mind. Ethan had been working an afternoon-evening shift at the hospital. Ethan and Sara had already retreated into the downstairs room, where he was playing her at chess on the bed and they were chatting.

Ed went upstairs to the bedroom with Winry to talk. "Maes is staying over there," Ed assured Winry as he hugged her. "He can handle Roy."

"I'm glad," Winry replied, hugging him back tightly. "Riza was honestly afraid you'd get there and Roy might've…" she didn't even say it aloud.

"Nah," Ed shook his head and smiled. "Roy was a little toastier than when she left, and about as cheerful as a sun-burned polar bear, but otherwise unharmed."

"He said some terrible things," Winry shook her head. "Though Riza says she didn't handle it well either. Still, I can't imagine having a fight like that. I mean, the content you know?" she rested her head against Ed's chest. They certainly argued often enough! "They'll have a lot of talking to do to work things out."

From her worried tone, Ed felt growing concern. "You don't think Riza won't go home do you?"

Winry shrugged. "Oh she will," she replied. "But it's an issue of trust. If Roy really feels at all the way he said, how can she trust that he's being honest at other times? Or how can she know he didn't mean it? Do you see what I mean?"

"I do," Ed nodded.

"Though Riza could have made him talk about it sooner," Winry continued her rambling. This had obviously upset her pretty badly. "If there's a question of anything, it's only right to ask."

"Definitely," Ed agreed, stroking her back gently with his left hand. It would have been good if they could have identified the depth and extent of Roy's depression and the cause earlier. "You know you can ask me anything right?"

"Well of course," Winry chuckled then. "I've never had a problem being bull-headed enough to make you tell me things when you clam up have I?"

"Not that I can think of," Ed smiled. "Al and I were pretty bad about that for a while. We must have been a nightmare."

"That reminds me," Winry looked up at him suddenly with a curious expression. "You were dreaming a while back, when you had pneumonia. I entirely forgot with everything that's been going on."

Dreaming? "What about?" Ed asked, not sure where she was going.

Winry shrugged. "Who's May?"

_May?.... Mei!_ Had Ed dreamt of Mei when he was feverish? He rarely remembered fever dreams like regular dreams, but he knew he talked in his sleep a lot of the time, especially when he was sick. "You sure it was a name?" he asked, stalling momentarily. How to answer that question?

"It sounded like it," Winry smirked. "Sounded like a girl. Someone you met on the other side of the Gate maybe and never told me about?" she teased.

Ed felt his throat go dry and he let go of his wife. "No, definitely not," he replied, forcing a smile to his face. "It's probably nothing. I really don't remember that dream." At least that part was the truth!

"Are you sure?" Winry frowned a little as if she didn't quite believe him.

"Positive."

**April 4****th****, 1951 **

Ed was glad to get out of the house and off to work the next morning without having to try and make real conversation. While Winry had dropped the subject the night before, Ed suspected that she didn't entirely believe him when he had said he didn't remember dreaming about Mei. All right, he didn't remember dreaming about her while he was sick, so he hadn't lied outright. Ed knew that was just a technicality though. He had avoided the subject because she had caught him off guard, and he had no idea really how to even beginning telling her anything in regards to Mei. He had done his best to put that whole situation behind him on the way home, and hadn't even really thought of the woman in weeks. He hoped Winry would just let the subject drop entirely and forget about it.

* * *

Winry had other things on her mind that morning, though she had not forgotten the strange conversation with Ed the night before. The first thing that concerned her that morning, and made her call in late for work, was making sure Riza was all right. Her friend had slept the night away in their upstairs guest room, and did not emerge until after Ed had left for work. Her skirt and blouse from the day before were rumpled from being slept in.

"Good morning," Winry smiled at her, hoping to put Riza at ease as she set the table for four. It concerned her that Ed had actually left before breakfast, claiming he had an early meeting and some work to finish that he somehow hadn't mentioned last night.

As she had hoped Riza smiled back, even if it was just a small one. "Good morning," she replied. "At least, I hope it is." She pushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes as she sat down at the table. "I can't believe I slept through the night."

"You were pretty distraught yesterday," Winry replied calmly. "So I'm not surprised. I'm sorry I didn't wake you when Ed got back, but you looked like you hadn't been sleeping well and could use the rest."

"That would be an accurate assessment," Riza agreed with a sigh. "How… how is Roy?" The hesitation was a clear indicator that she was afraid to find out.

"Alive and as grouchy and depressed as ever," Winry said, though she kept her tone light as she continued setting the table. "Ed had a long talk with him about things, and then called Maes to stay with him last night."

"Good," there was an immediate wash of relief over Riza's features, "And this morning?"

"I haven't heard anything yet," Winry admitted, bringing out the coffee pot. "But Maes promised he would call if anything was wrong, so we should take that as a positive sign."

Riza nodded, picking up her cup the moment Winry finished pouring the coffee and drinking it straight. "I should go home so Maes can get to work."

"I'm sure they'll understand if he's late," Winry pointed out gently. "Are you all right?"

"I'm still angry and hurt… and scared," Riza replied with more of her usual calm. "But things always need to be talked out before a resolution can be reached, no matter how unpleasant the discussion. It's not the first time we've had disagreements and I'm sure it won't be the last."

It was just the first that had ever sent Riza fleeing her own home in tears, but Winry didn't say that out loud. "Ed seemed to think that Roy would be feeling better this morning," she continued talking.

"Where is everyone?" Riza asked then, taking note of the absence of anyone else in the room.

"Ed went in to work early," Winry replied with a shrug. "Something about a meeting he forgot to tell me about when last night got a little…hectic. Ethan's awake, I heard him stirring, but I think he's probably in the bathroom by now." She smiled. "Sara's still asleep. She's been taking advantage of the down time to catch up on all the things she _should_ be doing on missions but doesn't."

That got a knowing little smile from Riza. "Alchemists," she snorted just slightly. "They're all the same sometimes."

Winry chuckled. "That's the truth." It was a statement though, that she couldn't find entirely humorous anymore than Riza really did. It took a particular type of person to _want_ to do the kinds of work that Roy, Edward, Maes, and Sara did. Alphonse too, but he always seemed to be the exception somehow. The people they loved most were complicated people who seemed determined to put themselves through more stress, danger, and difficulty than anyone else just because they could.

And yet, no matter how much she fretted, or Riza did; no matter how frustrated, angry and worried they were; Winry knew they wouldn't change them for anything in the world.

* * *

Riza approached the front door with some trepidation, annoyed with herself for feeling hesitant. Never in her life had she been _afraid _to face Roy Mustang, and there was no reason to be so now. She opened the door and went inside.

Maes and Roy were both sitting in the living room, opposite each other with Roy on the couch facing her, and Maes' back to her on the other couch, looking for all the world like she'd caught them in the middle of a casual conversation. Riza's eyes went straight to Roy, who stopped speaking mid-sentence when he spotted her. He was actually dressed, if only in casual pants and shirt, and looked as if he had showered and shaved recently. His hair was slightly damp. There were steaming cups on the coffee table between them.

Maes turned around and smiled, getting up. "Morning, Mom," he pulled her into a hug, breaking the silence.

"Morning," Riza hugged her son back, glad he was there. "I hope I haven't interrupted a riveting conversation," she commented casually, with only minimal sarcasm evident. A light mood would be best for the moment.

To her surprise, it was Roy who spoke, standing up and coming around the coffee table. "Actually, I was trying to figure out the best way of begging you to come home and talk to me."

Begging? "That must have been quite a conversation," Riza said as Maes stepped back, leaving nothing but air between her and Roy. Roy stopped then, several feet away.

"I was just explaining the proper method for groveling," Maes chuckled. "I think Dad was finally beginning to get the concept." He took a couple of steps backward. "I should probably go. Will you two be okay until later without a chaperone? Or is that referee?"

Riza couldn't help but smile a little at her son's clever wit. It couldn't be easy to see them like this. "We'll be all right," she promised softly.

"I'll come back later," Maes promised, then grabbed his uniform jacket off the back of the couch and headed for the door.

Riza's attention stayed focused on Roy, whose one eye gazed at her with longing and guilt at the same time. "So, you were saying something about begging," she said after she heard the door close behind her.

Roy closed the distance with startling speed and Riza found herself enfolded in one of the tightest, most desperate embraces she had ever known, unable to breathe for several seconds before he loosened his grip ever so slightly. "You don't play fair," he murmured.

"What?" That wasn't what she had expected to hear! An apology maybe or something endearing the way Roy usually did when he was '_in the dog house_.' "What do you mean?" Her eyes flashed angrily.

Roy leaned back and looked down at her, his arms still around her. His eye actually sparkled with amusement at her anger. "Sending _Edward_ over here? What were you thinking; that he'd annoy me back to my senses?"

Joking; Roy was…joking? It was the first time she'd even heard a cynical crack out of him in weeks. Riza smirked back up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "It worked didn't it?"

Roy's smile faded, but there was still more life in his expression. Riza had almost forgotten what it was like to get real responses out of the man. "I don't want to retire from the military," Roy said softly then, his entire body shaking slightly. "I don't like getting old. But my life doesn't mean anything – none of that matters – if I don't have you. For you…I'll do anything."

The emotion in his voice, the rare sound of real fear, caught Riza up short. She hadn't meant to say what she had last night, but he had obviously taken her words seriously. "Oh, Roy," she hugged him again, her head against his chest. "All I want is to have you for as long as I can. I'd just like that to be longer than the life expectancy of the average State Alchemist." Okay, so those numbers were much better now, but Roy seemed to get the point. She put her arms around his back, returning the hug. .

Roy sighed. "A fire isn't much if it doesn't burn."

"A fire that burns too fast and too bright burns out quickly," Riza countered softly. "It has nothing left."

Roy surprised her again by chuckling softly, the sound coming from just above her head. "Then maybe it's time to let things simmer for a while instead."

* * *

Winry felt a little stupid for doing it, but she figured it would make her feel better if she had a little more information; at least enough to verify that Ed meant what he said. He had seemed so hesitant about what she had thought to be a very simple question. After all, it had just been a dream right? Still, she felt a little guilty when she dropped by Alphonse's office while she was at Central Headquarters for a business meeting.

"Winry!" Al seemed happy to see her when she came into his office though. "What are you doing here today?"

"Business as usual," Winry smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "I just thought I'd drop in. I had a question for you though. I guess you could call it a whim." Hell, she was babbling like an idiot.

Al didn't seem to notice. "So what's the question?" he asked curiously as he offered her a seat.

Winry sat down in the one stuffed chair in the room. "I was wondering if you knew anything about a woman named May?"

Al's expression lit up almost immediately. "Mei Xian? Sure. She's the mother of the Emperor of Xing. We met her on our trip." He chuckled. "Well _met_ sounds formal. We spent a lot of time with the Imperial family. Mei is an accomplished alchemist. She and her daughter, Renxiang, worked with Ed and Ethan on alchemy research the whole time we were there."

"Ed never mentioned her," Winry replied though, now that Al said the full name, she remembered Ethan mentioning a _Mei Xian_ several times when he had babbled about the trip to her later, though he had mentioned Ren more often.

Al's brow furrowed a little. "Well that's weird. You knew he was there to do research."

"He and Ethan talked a lot about research," Winry nodded, feeling an odd sinking feeling in her stomach. "But Ed never mentioned who there teacher was or even that it was a woman." Given that he had studied under Izumi, that fact didn't bother her. The fact that Ed hadn't talked about it at _all_ was, to her, much more disturbing.

"Maybe he forgot," Al shrugged. "Or it just didn't seem relevant? I mean, we had a lot happening on that trip."

"So I heard later." That had been a mild sore point too. Winry had received only one letter while Ed was gone and that one right after he arrived. Elicia had gotten a couple of letters from Al almost every week detailing as much as he could tell them about what was going on. "Did they get along well?"

"They all seemed to get along well," Al shrugged, then he stopped and his expression changed a little. "Oh wait. You mean Ed and Mei don't you? Well yeah, sure," he nodded. "I mean, they spent hours together every day working on alchemy right? Ed wouldn't have put up with someone he wasn't willing to work with, and Mei was really easy to talk to."

Really easy to talk to; an accomplished alchemist. Winry tried not to be alarmist. "Was she pretty?"

She was clearly confusing Al with her line of questioning. He shrugged and smiled. "Well, sure. I mean, not the usual kind of pretty, but in an exotic kind of way; dark hair, dark eyes, very elegant. Not as beautiful as Elicia of course," he chuckled easily. "But she's a little younger than us, a little older than Elicia. Or at least, from what I could figure out," he smiled. "It's not like I was tactless enough to ask outright."

Winry wet her lips slightly; they had gone dry. The feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach bothered her. She felt a little unfair and guilty just for asking these kinds of questions at all. "Of course you weren't," she replied.

Al seemed to read her shift in moods. "Winry, why are you asking about Mei?"

"I… Ed was dreaming about her a few weeks ago," Winry replied, "When he was ill. You know how he talks in his sleep. I forgot all about it until last night. I asked who she was, just out of curiosity but he… he wouldn't tell me anything. He just said he didn't remember the dreams."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Al's expression change. "Weird. Well, he was a little uneasy while we were in Xing. Bad memories you know. Maybe he just didn't want to talk about Xing."

"But he's talked about his research," Winry objected, perhaps too quickly. "He talked all about Xing when he got home: all the places you saw and the food and staying at the palace. He even told me that those two alchemists who…" she swallowed, not even really able to talk about the two who had tortured him once. "Well, them being caught. But he didn't give a lot of details and he… he never mentioned Mei."

"You don't really think they were involved do you?" Al blurted out suddenly exactly what Winry had been trying not to think herself. His tone was incredulous. "Come on, Winry, that's ridiculous!"

Winry winced. "I don't know what to think, Al. Why wouldn't he talk about her?" She glared at him. "Even if he didn't remember a dream, shouldn't he remember someone he spent a lot of time with not very long ago?" Ed had lied; by omission only, but he was doing it again. He _knew _how she felt when he didn't tell her things! So why would he do it now unless there was a very good reason?

"Maybe they didn't get along as well as it looked," Al countered. "Or he was afraid you'd be jealous; you know Ed. I mean, you are aren't you?"

"No," Winry snapped back. "I'm not. Or at least, I wouldn't have been. Even in Creta, I never believed that whole mess. In Aerugo, I knew he wouldn't really do anything with other women even to keep _in character._ It's just not _Ed _but…" her voice hitched and she stopped for a moment to get control of her emotions. "He's never seemed so eager to avoid answering a question about someone else. I know he's not telling me something, but what?" She stood up again. She felt irritable, uncomfortable, like her skin was on too tight. "I need to talk to him, Al. But I'm not sure I want to know the answer. Besides," she half-laughed. "From what you and Ethan have said, this woman doesn't sound like the type to cheat on her husband either."

Al looked extremely uncomfortable. Obviously it had never occurred to him to consider that particular possibility and, while Winry knew that reaction should have reassured her, it didn't. "Mei's not married," he admitted softly.

"What?" Winry gave him a very confused look. "But she's Mao's mother isn't she?"

Al nodded. "Well yeah. Her husband was killed years ago in the civil war; assassinated because he was becoming a favorite of the Emperor. They had some nasty politics."

_Obviously. _But that meant that Mei didn't have to worry about any marital obligations. "This is insane," Winry shook her head. "I can't believe I'm even thinking about this." It was silly, childish maybe even, but she kept learning information that pointed towards a very definite opportunity, and Ed was acting so strangely about it. He'd run out of the house so fast this morning. What was she supposed to think? "If you breathe one word of this Alphonse Elric…" she couldn't even complete the threat.

"No ma'am," Al replied, shaking his head. "Not a chance. I… that's between you and Ed." From the tone in his voice though, Winry knew that Al wanted to talk to his brother now too. Winry needed to talk to him first.

"Good. Thanks," she said tentatively as she headed for the door, "for answering my questions." Winry just wished it didn't leave the biggest one still unanswered.

* * *

Edward was a little surprised when he got home before Winry did even though he arrived home a bit late. He had done his best to distract himself all day from his nerves and had done a pretty good job, jumping in on one of the combat classes that afternoon in place of doing dull paperwork, and had worked up a good sweat in full alchemy-combat fighting against several of the current State Alchemists. The work out felt good, and helped him forget the strain of having handled both the situation with Roy last night and Winry's unexpected questions about Mei. He was still pretty sweaty by the time he got home though!

"Mom said she was working late," Sara informed him when he asked. "She called a couple of hours ago. Something about a rush order she had to see to personally."

"You know Winry," Ed smirked, "Always the perfectionist." He was silently glad though. Hopefully that meant the whole thing was passed and he was being jumpy about nothing.

Sara and Ethan had dinner on the table when he got there, and after dinner everyone spread out to do their own thing. Ethan vanished into the upstairs room with a stack of books for some serious reading, and Sara settled down in the living room with an alchemy book of her own.

Ed went upstairs and fiddled around in the lab for a little while. He heard Winry come home, but she didn't come upstairs immediately. It sounded like she was talking to Sara. Ed didn't bother to go downstairs. He read for a bit then finished up a few notes before deciding to take a shower. He definitely needed one before bed.

Ed stripped and got into the shower, enjoying the feel of hot water coursing down his body, washing away the sweat and smell that came with a good day's work, replacing it with the scent of soap. His muscles relaxed, and he closed his eyes and just let the water drown out the world around him.

The door to the bathroom opened without Ed hearing anyone approach. Then the curtain pulled back and Ed spun around, looking at Winry, who was frowning at him. "We need to talk," she commented without preamble.

Ed's stomach sank. "What about?" he asked, the cold air that whisked into the shower making him shiver slightly.

If there was one thing he could say about Winry, it was that she liked to get directly to the point. "Why didn't you tell me Mei was the Emperor of Xing's mother?" she asked. The tone wasn't accusing, merely confused and slightly irritated.

"I…." Ed's tongue felt thick in his mouth. What could he say that wouldn't sound like he was avoiding her question?

"That she was the one teaching you and Ethan alchemy in Xing?" Winry continued when he didn't reply.

Ed felt frozen. Damn it! He hated when this happened, and it almost never did except on the rare occasions that he panicked. Well, this was one of those all right! He wasn't ready to deal with this.

"Did you kiss her?" Winry's frown deepened a little, and he was sure she was trying to guess what he wasn't saying.

"No," Ed managed to get out, his heart was pounding, racing so fast he felt like he was back in the middle of today's work out, or worse!

"Did you _do_ anything with her?" Winry was getting more irritated by the minute, as if she was trying to figure out why he was upset, and not satisfied with the answers. She crossed her arms under her breasts.

"_No!_ Of course not!" Ed objected violently. Even the _suggestion_ of such a thing coming out of Winry's mouth was painful to hear.

"Did you_ want_ to?" Winry asked, still fishing for the truth.

"I… sorta no, not really, but," Ed stammered. Hell! What was this, an interrogation? He leaned against the back of the shower, no longer really feeling the water and feeling embarrassed. It sounded really stupid when she put the questions plainly in the open.

Winry sighed. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I thought you'd be mad," Ed replied, looking back up at her.

"I_ am _mad," Winry's eyes flashed dangerously. "But I'm more upset that you felt you couldn't just tell me, Edward! It was a simple question. Why couldn't you give me a straight answer?"

"It's complicated."

That obviously wasn't the best answer. "We've got time," Winry countered.

"Here? Now?" As if he even doubted that was what she meant, but he couldn't do it! He couldn't tell her about it right _now_; not like this!

"Start talking or I flush the toilet," Winry threatened, clearly losing her patience.

"Can I please have a towel?" Ed asked plaintively, shuddering at the thought of being doused in scalding hot water. He also didn't much care for being cornered _naked_ in what felt like a combat situation. Ed didn't like behind attacked in any form!

"You're stalling," Winry accused, her lip trembling slightly. "Fine. Forget it!" A tear escaped her eye. "What happened to _no secrets,_ Edward? You didn't think I needed to know this? What happened to trust?"

"It's not that I don't trust you…." Ed started in, confused.

Wrong answer again. "No, it's how am I supposed to trust _you_?" Winry glared at him but her tone got softer instead of louder like Ed had expected. Really, it was much more worrisome that way. "You_ lied_ to me!"

Ed frowned. "Hey! I told you I didn't remember dreaming about her. I never said anything about what she means to me!" Hell…that didn't come out right. "I mean-"

But it was too late. "So does that mean _sort of no_ is sort of _yes_?" Winry looked like he'd just stabbed her.

"No!" Ed waved his hands in front of himself frantically. "That's not what I meant! I-"

"Stop," Winry dragged the curtain between them again and stalked out of the room. "I don't want to hear about it."

The door shut firmly behind her, leaving Ed standing in the still-running stream of water. _Well shit!_ Ed cursed silently and creatively as he sagged back against the tiled wall. That hadn't come out right at all, not a word of it. He stayed there, afraid to get out and go into the other room.

It was ten minutes before Ed finally gave up and turned off the water, which had long since gone cold, and toweled off and pulled on his shorts. He took a deep breath, and stepped out into the bedroom tentatively, not entirely certain if he was going to get attacked again or not! The lights were out though, and other than the soft glow coming in from the window, the room was bathed in darkness. In the dim light he could see Winry's silhouette outlined in bed. Ed stood still, frozen with indecision for several seconds. She looked like she was asleep, and he wasn't entirely sure crawling into bed beside her right now was the best idea.

Her words hurt and what was worse, he deserved them. Ed turned and headed downstairs. He didn't bother turning on any lights. He didn't need them, and he didn't want to wake anyone else up. Bounce was closed up in the upstairs guest room with Ethan, so he didn't have to worry about accidentally stepping on the dog.

The living room was bathed in moonlight. Sara had obviously already retreated to her room, and might be asleep. Ed paused at the entrance, feeling a moment of indecision, and an overwhelming wave of guilt and grief that he couldn't hold back anymore. His muscles clenched, and his eyes were wet. He'd really screwed up this time. Or rather, again! All he had wanted to do was put the whole embarrassing mess with his emotions in Xing behind him. He had hoped it would remain a private indiscretion he would never have to admit, and now Winry was furious at him when he couldn't even find the words to explain!  
His gut twisted, and his mouth was dry. A drink would have really hit the spot about now; something hard, but after _last_ night's little tête-à-tête with Roy, that thought wasn't that appealing. When he _needed _one was when Ed avoided it like he usually avoided milk and doctors. That wouldn't solve his problems.

Ed sighed and lay down on the couch, letting the tears come without any attempt to control them. How the hell was he going to explain? He had to now, or Winry would remain convinced that Ed had really considered doing something with another woman or, worse, be sure he was lying about not having actually gotten involved with Mei! He had to explain, because the thought of losing Winry was more than he could bear.

* * *

Winry woke up with a start, momentarily unsure what had woken her. She blinked in the darkness, and reached her hand out for the familiar presence that… wasn't there. Her arm lay draped across empty bed and that, she realized, was what had woken her. Ed _wasn't_ there.

It hurt to feel so torn about that fact, and Winry felt guilty for it. She couldn't help but be mad at Ed. He had dodged the question, and deliberately not brought up a woman with whom he had spent _copious_ amounts of time on his trip! What was worse was he sounded like he had admitted to being interested in the other woman; _really_ interested. Assuming he was telling the truth, where did that leave things?

But where was he? Even angry, Winry felt stung that he hadn't come to bed anyway. Still, what had she expected? Concerned, she got out of bed and pulled her robe on over her night gown before padding quietly downstairs.

Even in the darkness it only took seconds to spot Edward. He was passed out on the couch in nothing but his shorts. Winry stepped a little closer, looking down at him, her heart aching to know what would happen the next time they talked. Would Ed admit that he was attracted to someone else? It just didn't seem possible. He had been so glad to be home, to be with her again. Or was that guilt? She wasn't naïve enough to believe Ed incapable of lying, not even to her. She knew him better than that, but she had thought something of _this _nature long past being a threat!

Ed always looked so innocent when he slept, she thought bitterly; still so childlike. His hair, unbound and still slightly damp, fell around his face and shoulders in soft waves; and his mouth was, as always, slightly open as he lay on his back, most of his body exposed to the cool night air. He rolled slightly as she watched and shivered.

_Idiot._ Winry sighed as she watched him. He'd catch cold or worse if he slept like that! She picked up a blanket that had been discarded in the easy chair and gently laid it over Ed, unable to resist, bringing it slowly up to his neck to cover him.

As she let go of the edge of the blanket, Ed's eyes popped open. He blinked blearily for a moment. Then his entire body stiffened. "Winry?"

Her heart ached as those golden eyes gazed up at her with confusion and guilt. "You idiot," Winry said softly, for lack of anything better. "Pneumonia less than a month ago and you're sleeping completely uncovered? What would Al say?"

Ed sat up, tucking his legs under him, but he kept the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He ignored the last comment completely. "I…figured I wasn't welcome."

Winry turned on the lamp by the couch. The light caught Ed's eyes, and she felt a pang inside at the pained expression on his face. There was something about it too that…had he been crying?_ Edward?_ "I don't know what to feel," she admitted, sitting down on the other end of the couch. This was the last situation she had ever expected to really face. Oh, she'd known for years that practically half of the women in Amestris – if not more – swooned over the Fullmetal Alchemist. But she had stopped worrying about them, stopping being jealous years ago. Now… "Just tell me," she looked up at him, making herself look him in the eyes. "Tell me the _truth,_ Edward, whatever it is."

Ed swallowed audibly, eyes a little wide, and Winry feared he might try and dodge her again. More, she feared what his reluctance meant, but she waited. After a minute he started to speak. "Mei Xian is the mother of Emperor Mao," he confirmed what she had already heard from Alphonse. "She and her daughter were the ones working with Ethan and I on our research on Xing alchemy."

"I found out that much from Alphonse," Winry admitted shortly.

Ed winced. "Well, long story short," he sighed. "We talked a lot and worked together. She's a nice person; you two have a lot in common," he admitted softly. "And she was one of the first Xing people there that made me feel comfortable." He sighed, "At least at first." It was all Winry could do not to interrupt, but she wanted the whole story. "She was pretty, and it was hard not to enjoy her company. I started to wonder if maybe I liked it more than I should." He looked away from her then, and she could see the guilt in his eyes. Winry didn't like where this was going. "That was after she asked me to show her some of our fighting techniques."

Normally, it didn't bother Winry that Ed fought with women as well as men here at home. Sara had a similar fighting style. Somehow though, the tone in his voice implied that this fight had been different. "Keep going."

"It was pretty typical," Ed shrugged, studiously avoiding her gaze. "I didn't think getting that close would make any difference. Afterwards though, I couldn't stop thinking about her." His voice was practically a whisper at this point. "I started trying to avoid being alone with her. I felt guilty. Then we got the news about the planned assassination attempt." He had told her some about that before, and how he had been helping guard the Imperial family, along with Ethan, Al, and Roy too. "Mao specifically asked me to guard his mother."

"By yourself?" Winry hadn't heard _that _part of it! How many other details had Ed been _leaving out? _

"It would have looked bad to object, especially after we volunteered to help," Ed replied, clearly miserable. Apparently he had been then as well. "I agreed. Mei had a couple of alchemical artifacts in her sitting room, so it was a great excuse for me to be there without raising the suspicions of anyone spying that they had been found out. It got late though, and Mei went into the back to …take a bath, while I sat guard in the other room."

At least Ed hadn't been _in_ the room with her at that point. "And they attacked?" Winry guessed. She knew that part happened eventually.

Ed nodded. "They attacked almost immediately. We were fighting and Mei… came out to help." His face blushed beet red, and Winry didn't have to ask to figure out that Mei hadn't been entirely clothed! She swallowed her anger though. That wasn't Ed's fault. "Well you know how the fight went. We won and Mao was grateful. I ducked out as soon as I could. Then I started having dreams." From the lack of detail, again, Winry didn't need to ask. She didn't want to know the details either. "It drove me nuts. All I wanted was to get the images out of my head but… they wouldn't go. I did everything I could to keep my mind off Mei when we weren't working. I figured that had to work. I didn't _want_ to think about her." Well, that explained how he'd actually managed to put on weight on that trip, little as it had been. Winry knew how Ed dealt with that kind of thing.

The fact that he had apparently been unable to stop thinking about Mei was not reassuring. "So, what happened?" Winry asked, impatient and dreading where this seemed to be going.

Ed looked like he wanted to cover his head with his blanket. "I had a really strange chat with Mao's spiritual advisor."

What? "That's pretty strange just on it's own," Winry pointed out.

"Tell me about it." Ed shrugged. "The man's far too perceptive for his own good, but he helped me work through things. I'd been mistaking feelings of friendship for well, you know," he blushed again. "Though I suppose the fact that I was miserable at the idea of it being anything else should have clued me in a lot earlier."

That was it? "So you were scared to tell me you happened to notice some other woman was smart and pretty and over-reacted? You really are an idiot," Winry sighed, feeling almost let down by the end, and yet incredibly relieved to find out that the problem was merely that Ed was being Ed!

"I was embarrassed," Ed finally looked up at her again. There was still worry and urgency in his eyes. "I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened," he said. "I hoped the whole mess would just stay in my head, since that was all it ever was in the first place. I swear, Winry. I never said anything to Mei to make her think anything, or did _anything_!"

He'd lied and avoided talking about it. Winry was still mad at him for that. But at least now she understood. "You're an awful lot of trouble," she commented quietly after a moment, but she didn't have the heart to make Ed suffer for it. He had obviously beaten himself up over even _thinking_ he might be interested in another woman enough on his own! "You know you really looked guilty, Edward."

"Yeah, I completely screwed up," Ed admitted, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. He sighed, but seemed relieved that she hadn't lost her temper and exploded again. In truth, Winry didn't feel like doing either anymore. "I'm sorry, Winry. I panicked. I didn't think."

"Obviously," Winry shook her head and stood up. "At least now I know the whole story." She turned to go back upstairs. Ed hesitated, not moving from the couch. Winry turned her head back around. "I'm sorry I over-reacted. I think it's time we both got some sleep. We can talk about it more in the morning." Had Ed really thought she wouldn't let him in his own bed? Apparently, because he came to his feet cautiously, as if he wasn't sure if she wanted him there or not. The blanket slipped to the floor. Winry turned around. "You coming?" she made a more overt statement. "It's awfully chilly down here."

That elicited a small smile and Ed crossed the space between them, stopping only inches away, their faces close. Still though, he didn't touch her. It was obvious that he wanted to. Not anything passionate necessarily, but something.

Winry reached out and pushed Ed's hair out of his eyes. His left hand came up, catching hers up lightly. Their fingers intertwined. Ed's eyes never left hers, and all of the shame, and guilt, and apology resided plainly in their golden depths.

Clicking on the floor made them both glance towards the downstairs bedroom. Sara, in her nightgown and on still crutches, paused half-way to the bathroom, a little surprised to see them. Then she smirked. "If you two are going to get _romantic_ could you do it upstairs? That's what bedrooms are for you know. Some of us are trying to sleep."

"We'll keep that in mind," Ed smirked at Sara, though Winry could tell he knew as well as she did how unlikely that was to happen tonight.

When Sara hobbled into the bathroom and closed the door, Winry tugged at Ed's hand, his fingers still interlocked in hers. Knowing the truth, she felt foolish for suspecting, even though Ed seemed to think she had reason. He could make it up to her later. Right now, she wanted to curl up in bed with Ed's arms around her. Maybe it was the tension between Riza and Roy that had her jumping at nothing. "Come on," she smiled softly. "Everything will look brighter in the morning."

**April 5****th****, 1951 **

Ethan was whistling as he walked up to the hospital doors for the morning shift. He was looking forward to today. He had duty up in the pediatric ward, and Doc Stevenson had promised Ethan could help out with the physical therapy for a couple of the kids who were healing up after injuries. Ethan really liked helping out with the kids. He spotted Doctor Gray, the woman who often worked with Stevenson and served as his professional partner. They often saw a lot of the same patients. She had been working with Stevenson for years and was very personable. Ethan liked her. "Good morning, Doctor Gray," he smiled as he approached. "Is Doc Stevenson in yet?"

Doctor Gray looked up, and smiled, but it looked oddly sad. "I'm sorry, Ethan. Stevenson passed away last night."

Ethan froze mid-step. "He what?" He couldn't have heard that right! "How?"

Gray shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Natural causes. He was just old. It was his time."

_No._ He had been talking with the man less than twelve hours ago! Stevenson was his mentor, his teacher; the older man was a good friend. But this was reality, however much he wished it was a bad dream. Ethan didn't try and deny it. "I see."

"Do you want to go home?" she asked kindly.

Ethan shook his head. His dismay had obviously shown on his face. He took a deep breath, and offered the same sad smile she had given him earlier. He headed for the stairs, but his good mood was gone. Someone he cared about was gone. "No thanks. I'll be all right."

* * *

**Author's Note:** The end of Story 22! For anyone celebrating it, have a Happy Thanksgiving! I figured I would post this before the holiday so as not to leave anyone in horrible suspense. ;) Lots more coming after!


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